


Fire Walk with Me

by HibiscusTea9



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety, Arguments, Cuddling, Depression, Desire, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Falling In Love, Fugue, Guilt, Homelessness, Implied Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, Longing, M/M, Masturbation, Medicinal Drug Use, Music and Affection, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Rarepair, Restored Community Center, Romance, Self-Hatred, Sensitive boys, Sexual Confusion, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Tears, Touch-Starved, body issues, horrible exes, past emotional abuse, sexual awakening
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:22:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 225,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27397915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HibiscusTea9/pseuds/HibiscusTea9
Summary: Sebastian has never given two thoughts to the writer who lives on the beach. He probably hasn’t said more than five words to him the entire time the man has lived in Pelican Town.Elliott needs a muse. He’s sought a simple, impoverished life hoping to spark creativity. Now running out of his novel’s advance and time to get it to the publisher, he doesn’t know if he’s got what it takes to hack it.On a cold, rainy night in early spring, two lost souls accidentally touch. What happens next is something neither expected.Characters and tags to be updated with each chapter.Updated Saturdays.
Relationships: Abigail & Sam & Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Demetrius & Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Elliott & Female Player (Stardew Valley), Elliott & Harvey (Stardew Valley), Elliott & Leah (Stardew Valley), Elliott & Willy (Stardew Valley), Elliott/Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Harvey/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Implied Abigail/Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Implied Elliott/Harvey (Stardew Valley), Maru & Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Robin & Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Sebastian & Kent (Stardew Valley), Sebastian & Marnie (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 253
Kudos: 243





	1. Under the Sand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I write, I listen to music until I find a song that evokes the mood I want to create, then tend to listen to it on repeat as I write. This week, the song I listened to was “Petrichor” by Keaton Henson, found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wJYXk0lSxcg).

“I hate writing, I love having written.”  
-Dorothy Parker

Elliott Rourke loved the sound of rain. The quiet patter of spring showers on the wood roof, especially this late in the evening, soothed him as he prepared for bed. The bitterness of winter, the cold that seemed to creep in every crack of his cabin, had abated but not completely vanished, and the rain wasn’t helping warm the place. But with enough layers and the down comforter he’d insisted on bringing with him from the city, he would be snug tonight in bed.

He purposefully avoided looking at his desk as he prepared for sleep. The small computer that stood there next to crumpled sheets of paper seemed to taunt him for most of the day. Every time he glanced at his desk, his stomach clenched. Today had been a bad day. Not only had his muse eluded him again, but on looking at his calendar, he realized it had been a full year and a half since he had arrived in Pelican Town. He had no idea how so much time had passed. Each day seemed to fade into the ones around it, and his hopes that he would ever finish this novel were fading as well.

He’d paid two years’ rent on the cabin in advance. Mayor Lewis had been concerned when he had asked to move in. Had tried to encourage him to take a less… rustic option.

_“Are you absolutely sure you want this cabin? I don’t want to dissuade you from moving in, but nobody has lived there in close to twenty years. It’s not well-maintained. The town owns it after the last resident moved out and sold it back. We’d hoped to use it for weekly rentals during the summer, but… well, the tourists never seemed to manifest. So it’s just sat there. I’m sure we could find you something that would keep the elements at bay better.”_

Elliott sighed as he thought back on his naïveté. It had been the very exposure to the elements that he thought would be so thrilling, would inspire creativity. All the greats had suffered in pursuit of their art. They had lived on next to nothing in terrible situations and had produced the lasting works of literature. The advance he’d secured from the publisher would be enough to live on for two years while he wrote the next great novel.

Two years. It had seemed like such an eternity as it stretched before him that first day on the beach in late summer. The days, weeks, months stretched ahead with so much possibility. He had _two entire years_. He’d produced stories in less than a week when he was getting his MFA. And they’d been good. His professors had told him how promising his work was, how he needed to start sending it out for publication. And he had. He’d had three stories published the year he got his degree. It was the last one, “The Indigo Stain,” that had earned him recognition. A few awards – nothing too noteworthy, but the sort of awards promising young writers tended to pick up – and a spot on several end-of-the-year “best of” lists. The sort of attention that had everyone he’d ever known sending him congratulations, wondering when his first book would be coming out.

_“Soon, I hope.”_

That had been his reaction every time. It wasn’t just him being coy. Three publishers had engaged in a bidding war for the rights to his first novel. He had hardly known what to do with himself. He ended up going with Zuzu Continental. They hadn’t placed the highest bid, but Elliott knew they were the most prestigious, and they were willing to give him the most time to work on the book. Two years was almost unheard of for a first author’s contract, but they had been willing to take a chance on him.

And, of course, he’d been reminded several times the day he’d signed the contract that he was legally required to deliver a completed draft, or he would owe them back the entire amount.

Elliott’s stomach twisted itself again. He rubbed at it. It was an old habit from childhood, what he would do when he was worried or anxious. It didn’t make him feel better, not really, but something about putting the pressure on his stomach at least gave a different sensation than the anxiety.

He needed to make some tea. He still had some chamomile left over from the last time he had shopped at Pierre’s. He pulled his teapot out of one of the small kitchen cabinets and turned on the electric stovetop. The kitchen was – well, _charming_ would have been a stretch. It had been installed probably before Elliott himself had been born. There wasn’t even a separate stove; the burners were installed directly into the cabinet top, meaning his meals had to be things he could sauté or otherwise cook on the stovetop. He had never been the best cook, and the Queen of Sauce always seemed to assume he had access to a better pantry and kitchen than he did.

But he could at least make a good cup of tea. He put the kettle on the stovetop and pulled one of his mugs out. He smiled at the saucy expression the Dorothy Parker sketch on one side had, then turned it to the other side, reading the quote aloud to himself.

“The first thing I do in the morning is brush my teeth and sharpen my tongue.”

The mugs had been one of the few things he had insisted on bringing with him when he moved to Pelican Town. His clothes, his computer, his mugs, and his books. He truly hadn’t been able to afford to ship anything else. As his water boiled, he thought back to the day he’d left Zuzu City on the train. How he’d shown up at the station, boxes crammed around him in the back of the taxi and in its trunk. How he’d struggled to get them into the luggage area and finally settled down on the train, sweating in a very undignified fashion and very ready to get to the Gem Sea, where it would be so much blessedly cooler.

How as the train rolled on, away from the bustle and the noise and the smog of Zuzu, out into the country, his problems seemed to be rolling further and further away. He thought that graduating would be the hard part, that it would be the last major step on his way to being A Very Serious Author. That was how James had always put it. Elliott could always hear the capital letters in the way James would introduce him.

“This is my boyfriend, Elliott. He’s getting a degree in becoming A Very Serious Author.”

Elliott had always laughed, had always smiled, had always gone along with the joke. He’d tried to ignore how much it stung. It wasn’t like James was a bad person. In truth, he was a very decent man. He worked hard – Elliott wasn’t crazy about him being middle management for JojaCorp, but he knew James worked hard and earned his pay. And he’d invited Elliott to come live with him when they’d only been dating a year. James’s beautiful apartment near the crossroads of downtown was such a far cry from the graduate student housing at Zuzu State U. He could sit on the balcony (when the pollution wasn’t too bad) and see and hear and feel the rush of the city. And James liked to spoil him. The dinners out, the nice clothes, anything Elliott had wanted, James would provide.

Except for supporting his dream. Elliott realized that one night a couple of weeks before graduation when he and James had had a fight – no, not a fight, a spat. James didn’t really _fight_ , he just got incredulous and looked disappointed and made Elliott feel guilty. They’d been talking about his graduation, about what he would do after, and Elliott had surprised James with the offer letter from the publisher. He’d practically been vibrating with excitement. He couldn’t wait to share the news.

But James had taken the letter and looked at it with a furrowed brow. And he’d looked up, and made eye contact, and then asked the question that Elliott had hoped against hope he wouldn’t. “You mean you’re actually going to try to be a novelist?” For once, Elliott had been speechless. Of course, he was going to try. He had told James over and over for the last two years about how he’d never wanted anything more than to write for a living.

James had apparently taken Elliott’s silence as unsurety. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath. “Ell, I didn’t – I always thought you were going to plan to write stuff on the side, or as a hobby. Maybe go off and become a professor. But… you know how few people actually make a living as a novelist, right? For every big success, there’s ten thousand out there who never make it.”

“But that ten thousand people don’t get offers like this for their first book!” Elliott had tried to take the letter from James, to show him where the offer – the one he’d negotiated, that he’d been so proud of hammering out the details on – was. James just sighed and put his hand on Elliott’s.

“Ell, listen,” he had said, and Elliott braced himself. This was always the way James started saying something he knew Elliott didn’t want to hear. “I am so proud of you for getting your degree. Going through grad school is very impressive, and you should be proud of it. But I want you to be realistic, honey. I don’t want you chasing this pipe dream and having it crush you when it doesn’t happen. You’re already twenty-nine, it’s time you think about the future. Listen.” He had patted Elliott’s hand and gave him a smile Elliott knew was meant to be encouraging. “I know there are some new openings coming up on the sales floor at work. With as charming as you are, you’d be a natural. I can absolutely get you in the door. And once you’ve got a real job, maybe you can think about writing on the weekends or something.”

Elliott had been completely blindsided by how much James’s dismissal had hurt. He had never known that James, the man who he’d thought he was going to spend the rest of his life with, didn’t believe in him. He sat there in silence for a few long moments, trying to blink back hot tears. And James, damn him, had just sat there smiling in that warm, condescending way he always did.

The same way he’d smiled the day Elliott started moving his things out. “You’ll be back,” he had predicted. “Once you realize what the starving artist life is really like, you’ll be back.”

Elliott was taken out of his memory by the shrill whistle of the kettle. He pulled it off the heat and tilted the boiling water into his mug. The water started to turn a pale yellow color as the tea steeped. Elliott sighed, despite the comfort of the gentle aroma. Thinking back on that time, of when James had been so blandly cruel to him, made him realize what else he had put up with over the course of their relationship. The quiet jabs at his accent and his vocabulary, always to others, always at his expense. The gentle, meaningless encouragement that always ended up being James talking in circles without ever really _saying_ anything about the work Elliott had showed him. The promises that he would take care of Elliott. _Take care of him_ , implying, of course, that Elliott wasn’t capable of taking care of himself.

Elliott sighed again. He hated to admit how right James had been. Writing a novel was so much harder than he thought it was going to be. If it had been writer’s block, that would have been one thing. He’d dealt with writer’s block enough in the past to know the old tricks of getting through it. He wouldn’t still be stuck with virtually nothing to show after a year and a half if it had only been writer’s block.

It was worse. Elliott had no idea what he was going to write his novel about. It had taken almost five false starts before the horrible realization had dawned on him that he didn’t even know what story he wanted to tell. There had been so many story ideas back in his program, but he’d started them. He’d polished them in classes and seminars, workshopped them, even published a few. And now it felt like the well of creativity was running dry. He’d written the first two or three chapters of close to ten different books now, and it was the same problem every time: he would start, feel good about the characters and the world he was creating, and then he would completely run out of juice. The story wouldn’t go anywhere. There was nothing to tell.

Elliott leaned against the counter, gently lifting and lowering the teabag in his mug. He hated this. He was so used to telling stories, to coming up with ideas and worlds that he wanted to spin. But now, it felt like nothing was working. At one point, in near desperation, he had reached out to the agent at the publisher who had negotiated his contract, asking if they would be willing to accept a novel-length book of short stories instead.

_“I’m afraid not,” she had said, and Elliott’s stomach had twisted again. “We would have to completely renegotiate your contract, and you’d need to return the advance. Our lawyers are very specific about this.”_

So that wasn’t going to work. Elliott looked down into the chamomile tea. He would love to have met Leah at the saloon tonight, to throw back a couple of glasses of wine and talk out their problems, like they had back in Zuzu City before Kel had driven Leah out into the country. She had been the one to tell him about Pelican Town, how beautiful it was, how her creativity came back. She’d encouraged him to come, to see if it was the right setting for him as well.

Elliott hadn’t wanted to admit to Leah how little he could afford wine now. He’d spent more than he should have in his first few months away. He’d been so used to dinners out and wine and partaking in pleasures that it hadn’t occurred to him how the money he had from the advance had to last him the entire two years. When he’d checked his savings and saw what a dent he’d made, he’d almost cried. Ever since, he drew up a strict budget at the beginning of the month and had shopped for his food, choosing to cook at home and limiting himself to one or at most two meals out a month.

Elliott blew on his tea, hoping to cool it faster. He pulled the teabag out and reached for the small jar of honey – one of the few luxuries he wasn’t able to go without. He could have saved more money shopping at JojaMart, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. This was such a small community and Pierre’s was one of the few local businesses still trying to make it. Elliott picked up the spoon and stirred at his tea. When the honey blended in sufficiently, he moved over to his bed, sitting down and taking a cautious sip.

Still too hot. It always was; he didn’t know why he expected any differently. He sat silently, looking into his mug and feeling very sorry for himself. He hated the feeling, but he was failing at what he wanted so badly to do. He’d dug an enormous hole for himself and he had no idea how he was going to get out.

And then, Elliott heard something he didn’t expect. Quiet crunching in the wet sand outside his cabin. _Who could possibly be on the beach at this hour?_ He turned, listening more carefully at the wall. The rain was steady, and likely would be throughout the night, but there was definitely the sound of footsteps outside. The sound proceeded down the steps leading from town and past his cabin.

Curiosity got the better of Elliott, and he got up, moving to the window. It was so dark and rainy that he could barely make out a figure, moving to the pier. Willy? No, certainly not – Willy never went out this late at night. He never went out except on Fridays. Elliott tucked his arms around himself, watching as whoever it was moved onto the pier. And then he saw the slightest flicker of red in the darkness.

~~~

Sebastian Larsson was not having a good night. He hated Wednesdays, he always hated Wednesdays. Wednesdays were the night mom and Demetrius and Maru insisted on watching sitcom reruns on the comedy station and he could always hear their laughter echoing from upstairs. Normally he would just put on headphones and retreat into whatever game grabbed his attention, but tonight he actually had work to do. A hospital in Zuzu City had asked him to review their electronic medical record system and see what the problem in the programming was. Sebastian had been working on it for almost three days straight. He’d get up, scrounge for food, shower, smoke a cigarette, and then work for ten or twelve hours straight through. 

He knew none of his family understood how many hours he put into a project. The one time he’d tried to explain, mom’s eyes just glazed over. She still gave paper receipts to her clients and kept a physical ledger of her accounts. Neither she nor Demetrius ever even tried to understand what he did. Not like they did with Maru. When she’d gotten the job at Harvey’s clinic, mom and Demetrius acted like she’d just climbed the highest peak in the Grampleton Mountains. She wasn’t even a nurse, she was a frigging _receptionist_. A receptionist whose braying laugh was currently making Sebastian’s molars grind together.

It was almost ten. He’d been struggling with a particularly fiddly bit of code for the better part of an hour. He was almost certain this was the problem, what wasn’t allowing the doctors to apply their electronic signatures to the charts, but every time he thought he had it licked, there’d be another gale of laughter from upstairs and he would feel his shoulders clenching.

They never asked him if he wanted to join them. They always just assumed that he didn’t. To be fair, they were right – he _didn’t_ want to join them. But it would have been nice to be asked.

Fuck it. Sebastian got up and grabbed his jacket, tossing his cigarettes and lighter in a plastic baggie before stuffing them inside his jacket pocket. He had to get out. He needed to get some fresh air and stop hearing that _noise_ all the time. He made his way up the stairs, not caring if they heard him go, and left through the front door. The rain didn’t bother him. He actually liked how it soaked through him, how it made him feel like his body was starting to fade away. He knew when he got home, he’d have to go in through the side entrance, practically strip in the mud room, and wait to get his clothes until after he’d showered and changed into something dry. Demetrius had a fit every time he tracked water or mud in on the floors.

Sebastian stepped out and pulled his hoodie up. It would keep the worst of the rain out of his face. He could already feel it starting to soak into his jacket and his pants as he walked down the mountain path in the direction of town. He kept his hands in his pockets, making sure to shield his lighter and cigarettes. This late at night, in this weather, was one of the few times he was sure he could go out without running into anybody.

He hated Pelican Town. Or more precisely, he hated how he felt whenever he was around anyone else who lived in Pelican Town. Except Sam and Abby. But there was no way he could talk to either of them right now. He wasn’t going to knock on either of their windows in the dead of night and try to climb in through it, leaving a huge mess. Caroline already didn’t like him, and while Jodi wasn’t so bad, he knew how worried she was with Kent coming back soon.

He hated the looks he got when he was in town. The way people stared at him, the way they had stared since he started dying his hair black in high school. Since he got his piercings. Since he dressed in black all day.

_“Oh, Robin. Aren’t you worried that he’s going to become even more antisocial?”_

_“Robin, really. A boy looking like that, around here? He’s going to be a bad influence on the others.”_

_“Poor Robin. At least her girl’s turning out to be something a mother can be proud of.”_

They always said those things when they thought he couldn’t hear. He’d gotten used to going unnoticed. Once the shock everyone had at his image wore off, they went back to ignoring him, like they always had. He heard the whispers, the quiet comments, the tittering over drinks at the saloon. There weren’t even forty people in town. He knew who talked about him. He knew what people thought of him.

And while Sebastian wanted to say that he didn’t care, it still hurt. There weren’t many people who he could actually talk to. Sam and Abby, the old standbys. He and Sam had been best friends since they were seven. And Abby latched onto them a couple of years after that. They were always together. They understood when he complained about Maru being Demetrius and mom’s Little Miss Perfect. They commiserated with him about wanting to get out of Pelican Town, to do something more. And he listened to them as well, Abby’s complaints about how her parents were stifling her, how her dad just wanted her to take over the store and her mom wanted her to find A Nice Boy To Settle Down With. And Sam’s worries about what his dad coming back meant, about if Vincent was going to be okay, about how tired and sad his mom seemed all the time.

As he passed by the community center, he glanced over at the old, rotting building. He could hear noise from inside. It didn’t worry him. He knew it was just Becca. Becca Hwang, the farmer who’d turned Pelican Town upside-down in the year she’d been there. She’d taken over her grandfather’s old farm, had managed to get that overgrown eyesore up and running in shockingly quick time, and was always rushing around town, fixing things up and handing out gifts. Once she’d discovered Sebastian’s love of sashimi, she’d made it a point to stop by a couple of days a week with either that or some fresh-brewed coffee. He’d been annoyed at first, but over time had thawed. Becca, he realized, was just a genuinely nice person. That was something in short supply in Pelican Town. The polite veneer of most everybody hid bitterness, backbiting, and barely teetering above poverty.

Becca had taken to spending a lot of time in the community center of late. Sebastian couldn’t imagine what she’d want to do in there. He’d been twelve when Mayor Lewis had closed it up, declaring it a public risk. His mother had offered to do some of the repairs necessary to get it up to code, but Lewis had simply sighed and shook his head.

_“I’m sorry, Robin. I can’t spare any of the town’s budget on a resource that nobody makes use of anymore.”_

Lewis was full of crap about a lot of things (a _lot_ of things), but on that, he’d been absolutely right. Nobody had used the community center in ages. Sebastian couldn’t even remember the last time he’d set foot in the place. Part of him was worried about Becca being safe in there. But if she’d been into the mines without trouble, he doubted a few loose boards or a couple of rusty nails posed any real danger. And if she did need a tetanus shot, he was certain Dr. Harvey would be more than happy to administer it.

Sebastian trekked down the steps leading into the town square. His boots splashed through a few of the gathering puddles as he went. It wasn’t quite ten, and he knew there was a chance someone might be stumbling out of the saloon. If there was someone, hopefully it would be Pam. She never noticed anything when she was trashed. More likely, it would be someone like Marnie. He actually didn’t mind Marnie – of all the village gossips, she was the one who never seemed to say anything negative about him, and when he was young she’d been the one to show him how nifty frogs were, letting him hold one that she’d found on a rainy day and delighting him with facts about the various species throughout the valley. He wondered sometimes if he reminded her of her asshole nephew, the one who never had anything nice to say about anyone if he could help it. But Marnie was a friend of his mother’s, and she would definitely let it slip if she saw him out in the middle of the night, in the pouring rain.

So Sebastian hurried past the Stardrop quickly. He never felt comfortable in there, even if Gus and Emily were always friendly enough. It was only on Fridays, when the crowd was big enough that he could hide in it, and he could run the tables on Sam in pool while Abby tried her luck at _Prairie King_ , never seeming to make it past the first level. Those weren’t bad nights. Hidden in the arcade room off to the side, he never felt like anyone was staring at him or judging him.

With his pace increasing, he moved down past the mayor’s house – it was so much larger than anyone else’s in town, just so everyone knew how important Lewis was – and toward the beach. He could be alone here. He didn’t have to worry about anyone bothering him. Wet sand crunched under his boots as he descended the wooden steps leading to the beach. He was soaked through from the rain and chilled by the wind, but the numbness that was settling into his nose and ears made him feel better. It bit away at the constant ache in his muscles, at the twisting of his stomach. The only other thing that helped was the baggies of green that he bought from Emily once every couple of weeks, after she’d go visit her friend in the desert.

Smoking, whether it was tobacco or pot, somehow unclenched Sebastian’s stomach. Cigarettes were more affordable. He could get those from Pierre, and he did, at least two packs a week. His mother fretted when he picked up the habit in high school and Demetrius tried to sit him down for a lecture about the dangers of tobacco to his health. It had just made him up his habit. That first hit of nicotine always took the edge off enough for him to stop feeling so sharp and pointed all over. 

Pot was for the days where his anxiety would go through the roof. He’d roll up a few joints on the day he got the baggie from Emily and keep them tucked in the bottom of his sock drawer so they would be ready when he was starting to ramp up. Something about it made everything settle. He could lie back and feel – he didn’t want to say _normal_ , he never really felt normal, but normal enough. It was like the haze he entered made the worst parts of the world crumble away. The days where he felt like he couldn’t stop shaking, where he wanted to cry but the tears wouldn’t come, where his breathing was shallow and never seemed to get enough oxygen to his brain, that was when he needed the pot. After he was calmed and could breathe again, he would spray room freshener everywhere to try and get rid of the stench. He hated how it lingered, how it clung to his clothes. But on those days, it kept him from feeling like he wanted to die.

Sebastian stepped onto the wooden pier, hearing it creak under his boots. He leaned against the railing, looking out at the rain pattering on the ocean. The smell of the ocean breeze, the bitterly cold wind coming off it at night, and the sound of the waves on the beach were some of the few things he actually liked about living in Pelican Town. The republic curved around the northern and western edge of the Gem Sea, with Pelican Town and the rest of Stardew Valley on the north shore and a few other communities on the west shore, which were just barely visible on a very clear day. Across the sea, very far to the south, stood the Gotoro Empire. But here, in this quiet backwater, the threat of war seemed as far away as it ever was.

Sebastian carefully extracted the baggie his cigs and lighter were in. Thankfully, it seemed to have avoided the worst of the rain, which had soaked his hoodie completely through. He lowered his head, shielding the cigarette from the rain. He flicked the lighter a few times, his wet thumb making it hard to get the necessary friction. Eventually, it blazed to life and he touched the cigarette to the flame before putting the lighter back in the baggie and zipping it up. He brought the cigarette to his lips and the cherry burned red in the night. 

He drew the smoke into his lungs, the hit of nicotine spreading out into his chest and arms. He relaxed into it like the embrace of an old friend. He couldn’t smoke in the house anymore. Demetrius complained about the smell, mom always looked worried, and Maru just looked sad. So he’d slip out to the lake, where he would have some peace and quiet, or if he really needed to get away, he’d walk down to the ocean. He exhaled smoke, watching as the curls were cut through by the falling rain. He liked to draw in a breath of cold air immediately after the suck of smoke. Alternating the heat of the smoke with the cool of the air made him feel lightheaded. It made his brain stop feeling like it was overcooking, like it was trying to grab onto everything and make him think about everything at once.

Sebastian put the cigarette back to his lips and drew in another drag. He closed his eyes, letting his thoughts swim. This felt good. It felt good to be away from the town, away from the house, away from people. Even Sam and Abby and Becca could drive him nuts, the way they wanted to talk to him, the way they wanted something from him. He didn’t want to keep them away, he just – he just needed to be alone sometimes. Alone, away from all the noise, away from talking, away from people looking at him and talking about him and judging him and making him feel less than human. He let the smoke out, following it with an inhale of the cold sea air. If he stayed out here long enough, maybe it would feel like it was still winter. Maybe he could pretend like summer, with its heat and humidity and stickiness wasn’t going to show up. 

In first grade, when they were learning world geography and the teacher had told the class how far south the Gotoro Republic was, and how cold it was there all year round, even in the summer, Sebastian had been delighted. He loved the cold and wanted to learn everything about a place so far south it was cold all the time. But when the other kids saw him reading about Gotoro, they’d turned against him. Nobody wanted to play with him. A few kids called him bad words, told him how their parents were fighting Gotoro. He got quieter and quieter and quieter. It wasn’t long after that when mom and Demetrius told him the family was moving to Pelican Town. He was glad to get away from those kids and the way they looked at him. But he never forgot it. He never forgot how easily people could turn on you.

People. What a bunch of bastards. He let out the long breath and considered his cigarette before taking another drag. He still had a hard time learning to trust anyone. They could hurt you without any warning. Trusting Sam had taken a while, and it was only after Sam had worn him down trying to be his friend that Sebastian had begun to trust him. The same with Abby. The same with Becca. He knew he pushed people away. It was out of self-defense. Or so he told himself, anyway.

Fuck it. Sebastian _liked_ being alone. He liked not having to explain his thoughts or what he was feeling to anybody. He’d started dressing the way he did in high school because he wanted to tell people to stay back without having to actually talk to them. It had worked. Sam and Abby were the only ones who really stuck by him, but by that point, he was convinced they were going to be together for life. Everybody else could just leave him the hell alone. He took in another drag, relishing the feel as it heated his throat and lungs. If only it could be like this all the time. Without anybody talking to him. Just letting him be. Nobody wanting to know about him or what was going on or –

“Sebastian?”

The voice from behind him made him startle and draw in more smoke than he intended. He started coughing and hacking as he turned around. His vision was blurry from the tears the coughing was bringing to his eyes. He bent over, coughing into his fist and when he looked up, he saw –

Elliott? Shit. Of course that fop would be home, and standing here, a ridiculous oversized striped umbrella over his perfectly-coiffed head. Sebastian had barely spoken five words to him in the entire year (two years? It had to be more than a year, Becca moved in a year ago) Elliott had been in Pelican Town. He finally managed to clear his throat and looked up with an annoyed expression.

“Fuck, dude. Don’t sneak up on people,” he said, stubbing out the last of his cigarette. He folded his arms and did his best to give Elliott a frosty look. “What do you want?”

“I was concerned,” Elliott said, stepping closer. “It’s freezing cold out, and you don’t have a raincoat or umbrella. I wanted to make sure you were well.”

 _You were well._ Not “you’re okay” or “you’re feeling all right.” He always spoke in such a highfalutin’ way. It drove Sebastian nuts. “I’m fine,” Sebastian said, turning. “I like being cold. And I like being alone.”

Elliott was quiet behind him for a moment. “It isn’t healthy for you to stay out in the cold and wet like this,” he said. “By the time you do feel a chill, you’ll have to walk back up to the mountain in this. You’ll freeze before you get there.”

“I don’t care,” Sebastian said, leaning on the railing and wishing this guy would just go away already.

“Well, I do,” Elliott said. Sebastian gave him an unimpressed look. Elliott sighed. “Would you at least take the umbrella? It would make me feel much better to know you aren’t out here, soaking through and catching your death.”

“I don’t need your umbrella,” Sebastian said, turning away. “Or you to keep talking to me.”

Elliott furrowed his brow. He knew Sebastian wasn’t the friendliest resident of Pelican Town, but something seemed to be bothering him much more than Elliott being here. He let out a breath through his nose and said, “Very well.” He stepped closer and held the umbrella up, managing to get it over himself and Sebastian.

The minute the umbrella passed over his head and the rain stopped hitting him directly, Sebastian was suddenly aware of just how cold the sea air was and just how wet he was. Fuck. Elliott had been right. It was too cold to be out here like this. He turned back to Elliott, who seemed to anticipate an argument.

“I won’t say anything more. I’ll just stand here, keeping you dry,” he said. Sebastian couldn’t help but quirk one edge of his mouth up. He hadn’t anticipated Elliott being as stubborn as Sebastian himself was. He had to admire that, at least.

“I, uh,” he got out. Elliott looked down at him. “Sorry I snapped at you,” he said. He leaned further on the rails, looking out at the sea. “It’s just been…” he trailed off.

“A difficult day?” Elliott supplied.

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, looking down at the sea beyond the rail. “I –” he hesitated. He didn’t know Elliott that well. Then again, he didn’t really see Elliott spending much time with the gossips. And it wasn’t like his reputation in town could get much worse. “I just get really tired of feeling like I don’t belong.” Once the words started coming out, they kept going. “Like, I just – I’m tired of feeling like nobody wants to bother with me, like they just decided I’m not worth it without even talking to me. I’m tired of people looking at me sideways or talking about me or thinking they know who I am when they’ve never even said two fucking words directly to me. I hate it.”

 _Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up._ His brain clamped his mouth shut. He’d said too much. He could tell Elliott was about to launch into some tripe about how it wasn’t that bad, or he just needed to try to be friendlier, or how nice everybody was here and they weren’t _really_ talking shit about him, they were –

“I’m sorry.” Sebastian blinked. He turned to look at Elliott. There wasn’t much light out here at night, but he could see an expression of regret on the writer’s face. “I know how that feels. I think some people here speak about me that way as well. I know people have spoken about me without getting to know me in the past. I know how deeply that stings. I’m sorry you’re going through that, Sebastian.”

Sebastian looked up into Elliott’s face. It was too dark out here to see what color his eyes were, but he could tell the expression in them was kindness and concern. It had been a long time since anyone had told Sebastian what he was feeling was valid. He certainly hadn’t expected it from the walking, talking thesaurus who lived in the shack on the beach.

“S’okay,” he finally got out, turning away.

“No, it isn’t,” Elliott said. He sighed. “It isn’t right for you to feel like this in your own community.” He was quiet for a moment. “I know that we don’t know each other very well, but is there anything I might do? Even to just lend an ear?”

Sebastian felt a vague sense of discomfort creeping up his spine. Part of him wanted to snap at Elliott again, but another part wanted to lean into this feeling, to have someone talk to him. To hear what he always kept in the back recesses of his mind. His internal debate was cut off by a sudden shiver that rose up through him. When he opened his mouth to respond, he could feel his teeth start to chatter.

“You’re freezing,” Elliott said, concern evident in his voice. “Come. You can dry off at my place.” He placed a hand on Sebastian’s back. Normally, Sebastian would have shied away from the touch, but the warmth of Elliott’s hand was a welcome respite from the cold and wet.

Sebastian reluctantly stepped away from the railing, allowing Elliott to guide him off the pier and back down to the beach. He had never been in Elliott’s cabin before, he realized. He’d seen it plenty of times but had never given a single thought to what it might be like inside. Maybe it only looked decrepit on the outside and inside it was an absolute paradise. With how put-together Elliott always was, he probably had decked the entire place out in luxuries.

Elliott opened the door and ushered Sebastian inside. He stood on the mat, looking around and dripping.

Nope. Just as much of a dump on the inside.

Elliott closed the umbrella and stepped inside, shutting the door behind them. “That wind is bitter tonight. Let me get you a towel.” He moved over to a small dresser and, knelt, opening the bottom drawer and pulling a burgundy bath towel out. It matched the shade of that overcoat he always wore. Of course.

Elliott looked up at Sebastian. “Would you like a change of clothes? To get out of those?” he asked.

Sebastian shrugged, but his shivering apparently gave Elliott enough of an answer. He opened a separate drawer and pulled out a sweatshirt and some pajama bottoms. He brought the bundle over to Sebastian and handed them to him.

“Here you are,” he said. “Go ahead and change in the bathroom. I’ll put your clothes in the dryer.”

“Th-thanks,” Sebastian said, hating how the shivering was affecting his jaw. “I’ll be r-right back.” He stepped into the small bathroom and started to pull his clothes off, shuddering at the feeling of how cold and wet they were. Why the hell had he thought it was a good idea to go out in this? He could have just put his headphones on and blasted some music and drowned out the sound from upstairs.

 _Stupid. You never think anything through._ He pulled his clothes off and emptied his pockets, setting his wallet and cigarettes next to the sink. He gratefully used the towel to get as much of the wetness off himself as he could. He finished by drying his hair, then chanced a look in the mirror.

As he thought, his hair was flat and wet against his head. The rain had hit enough where the small spikes he managed to get through putting mousse in had completely lost their volume. His gaze moved down from his hair to his face, and then to his chest. He hated being this skinny. No matter what he ate, no matter whether he worked out or not, he could never put any weight or muscle on his frame. The one time he’d ordered Joja Weight Gain Powder, it had made him so sick he could hardly eat for a week, which seemed to defeat the purpose. He turned away from his reflection and picked up the dry clothes Elliott had provided for him.

The pajama bottoms were gray, but the Zuzu State U sweatshirt was the bright blue and gold of the school colors. _You could have gone._ He shook his head. He wasn’t going to think about that now. He pulled the sweatshirt over his head and shucked the pajama bottoms on. To his surprise, they weren’t as baggy as he thought they would be. The sweatshirt sagged a few inches past his waist. No surprise there, Elliott was over six feet and without his boots, Sebastian was barely 5’7. But the fit at the shoulders and chest was nowhere near as bad as he expected. Sebastian took a moment to check the size. Medium. _Huh._ Elliott had always looked a little larger than that. _Must be that stupid coat._

He stepped out of the bathroom, holding his wet clothes inside of the towel. Elliott quickly took them and moved over to the very small, stacked washer-dryer. He knelt and carefully placed each item of Sebastian’s clothing inside the dryer, then tossed a dryer sheet in. He started it up and stood, smiling back to Sebastian.

“Usually it takes about forty-five minutes,” he said. “You’re welcome to stay and make yourself at home in the meantime.”

“Thanks,” Sebastian said. He moved over to the table and took a seat, tucking his bare feet under himself. Elliott hadn’t provided a pair of socks and the floorboards were cold.

Elliott looked back to the kitchen, then to Sebastian. “Would you like some tea? That should help take some of the chill off.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Thanks.” Sebastian felt strange. People weren’t usually this nice to him. Especially people who he didn’t know. He watched as Elliott bustled around the tiny kitchen, trying to get the stove burner to work. It suddenly hit him how busted everything in this place was. The cabin itself wasn’t large, and it was like someone had tried to fit an entire house into a space barely larger than his bedroom. You _could_ live here, if you had to, but it definitely didn’t look comfortable.

Elliott didn’t seem to mind, though. Sebastian could hear him humming quietly to himself as he pulled a mug out of the cabinet and set it on the table. He looked over his shoulder to Sebastian. “Do you take milk, sugar, honey?”

Sebastian shrugged. “As long as it’s hot, I don’t really care.”

Elliott picked a jar of honey up off the counter and drizzled some into the bottom of the mug. He poured the hot water in and carefully placed a tea bag on the top, letting it soak down into the water. He brought it over to Sebastian, placing it in front of him, and taking a seat next to him. “Be careful, it’s still very warm,” he said.

“Thanks,” Sebastian said, placing his hands around the mug. The heat from the mug and the steam coming off the top felt good. He could feel Elliott’s eyes on him, but he was desperate not to talk any more about what had driven him from home. Glancing around for something to ask about, he spotted a bookshelf groaning under the weight of the books on each row. He glanced back to Elliott. “You write any of those?” he asked.

Elliott followed his gaze. “Hmm? Oh. No, none of those,” he said. He idly traced at the pattern in the table’s wood grain with one finger. “I’ve only had a few stories published. I’ve been trying to get my novel finished.”

“How’s that going?” Sebastian asked, bringing the mug to his mouth. He didn’t really care, but it would have been rude to sit in silence while Elliott was being so nice to him.

“Slowly,” Elliott admitted. He was quiet for a moment. “Much slower than I had hoped, really.” He gave Sebastian what almost seemed to be an apologetic smile. “It just doesn’t seem to want to come together. Or I’m never satisfied with it. Either or.”

“That sucks,” Sebastian said. He sipped at the tea and was surprised at how good it tasted. He normally preferred coffee because it was always handy and always ready. But something about this tea was hitting the spot. “Well, if that fails, you can always be a barista.”

He’d meant it as a joke, but at the slight wince Elliott gave, he kicked himself. _Stupid. He’s probably heard that a million times._

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He felt a hot flush creeping up his neck. “I, uh. I guess that was kind of insensitive, huh?”

“No, it’s fine,” Elliott said, managing a small smile. “You’re enjoying the tea, then?”

“Yeah. I usually drink coffee, but it’s good,” Sebastian said, taking another sip. The warmth was starting to settle into his chest, pushing back against the cold. This always happened. He said the wrong thing, and people stopped liking him. Stopped talking to him. If his clothes hadn’t been in the dryer, he would have made an excuse and left and tried to never run into Elliott again. _It’s barely been five minutes._ He was going to have to get through this.

“What’s it about?” he asked, looking down into the mug.

“My book?” Elliott asked. “Well, it’s…” he hesitated. Sebastian wasn’t expecting him to be shy about this. He glanced up and saw Elliott looking down at his hands. He placed his left hand over his right, rubbing at his wrist. “Truthfully, Sebastian, I’ve started almost ten books since I moved to Pelican Town,” he admitted. “I fear my muse isn’t being very kind to me of late. I’ve…” he sighed. “I’ve wondered if maybe this is the universe, or Yoba’s way of telling me that I should try something else.” He looked back up. There was a small smile on his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

_Brown. His eyes are brown._

Sebastian didn’t understand why that detail was important. Or why he felt like he could look into Elliott’s eyes when he normally avoided eye contact. The kindness he’d seen earlier now seemed to be replaced with sadness – and fear? There was a hint of that. He’d seen it enough in the mirror to know what it looked like.

“Come on, that’s not true,” he heard himself say. _When did you start giving pep talks?_ “You said you published a couple of stories already. Anything I’ve read?”

“I don’t know,” Elliott said, his smile widening slightly. “What do you like to read?”

“Sci-fi,” Sebastian said, sipping at his tea. “Or fantasy. Something that takes me away from this stupid place.”

Sebastian wasn’t expecting Elliott’s eyes to light up at that, or for him to sit up straighter. “Oh, really?” he asked. “Which authors? I was on quite a sci-fi kick myself when I first moved away to go to school.”

“Well, uh. _Cave Saga X_ , mostly.” Elliott looked perplexed. Sebastian sighed. “It’s a comic series. Forget it, I just…”

“What’s it about?” Elliott asked. Sebastian looked up. Elliott had one elbow on the table, his hand behind his neck. He actually seemed… interested? Even Sam didn’t care much for _Cave Saga X_.

Sebastian took another swig of tea. “Well, it’s set in the year 3000,” he said slowly. “It starts with a group of colonists who are traveling to set up a new colony on what they think is a completely uninhabited planet. But there’s this entire underground society that’s been there for ages, and their technology is more advanced than the colonists have ever seen from outside the Galactic Republic, so…”

For a solid twenty minutes, Sebastian told Elliott about the history of _Cave Saga X_. How he’d started reading in high school and still got new issues delivered quarterly. About how his favorite character, Olinna, started as one of the background colonists but became more and more important as she made contact with the cave-dwellers and learned how to communicate with them. How the colony had split a couple of years ago, with half of the colonists continuing to live on the surface, while the other half, led by Olinna, threw their lot in with the native people of the planet. Before he realized it, he’d gotten all the way up to the most recent issues, where the Republic was sending troops to arrest the colonists who had sided with the cave-dwellers and to set up a permanent base on the planet.

“…and that’s about it, so far anyway,” Sebastian said. He realized his mug was empty and that he’d stopped shivering so bad. Elliott was leaning forward, mouth slightly open in a smile as he took in what Sebastian was telling him.

“What a marvelous story,” he said. “I’ll have to see if I can get Gunther to order some of those old issues at the library. I’d very much like to read it for myself.”

“Oh, I have…” Sebastian cut himself off. He was sure Elliott was just being polite. He cleared his throat. “I mean, I have the entire set. It’s a lot of books, they release four a year. So we’re up to – 33, I think? Yeah, volume 34 is coming out in April. But, uh, if you wanted to borrow the first couple…”

“I would!” Elliott said, sitting up. “That sounds fantastic. And let me…” he got up from his seat and moved over to the bookshelf, kneeling and running his fingers over the spines. He made a triumphant noise. “Here we are!” He pulled a book out and brought it back over to the table, setting it in front of Sebastian.

The cover was what attracted Sebastian’s attention first. A curving iceberg jutted up out of a beautiful, freezing landscape. Sharp stone walls jutted on the sides of the valley around it, but the iceberg seemed to float on a sea that stretched into the distance. He looked to the title.

“ _The Left Hand of Darkness_ ,” he read. He looked up to Elliott. “What’s it about?”

“It’s wonderful, one of my very favorite books,” Elliott said, sitting down across from him. “It’s also set in the far future, as people from our world try to establish contacts with people from other planets. It’s set on a far distant world called Winter, or Gethen, and the people there have only one gender, which can change once a month when it is time for them to mate.”

“That sounds kind of weird,” Sebastian said, looking back down at the book.

“It’s quite compelling,” Elliott said. “Especially because the narrator gets caught up in the political machinations of the two kingdoms on the planet and has to – well, I don’t want to spoil the plot for you.” He reached across the table, pushing the book toward Sebastian. “Please, take it. I’d love for you to read it and tell me what you think.”

Sebastian looked down at the book. What the hell. He didn’t have anything better to do. He picked it up and put it on his lap. “Sure, I’ll read it,” he said. “I’m probably a lot slower than you are, so don’t expect it back anytime soon.”

Elliott chuckled. “I’ve read it at least twelve times,” he said. “I’m in no hurry to get it back. I’d much rather you get the experience yourself.”

Elliott was weird, Sebastian had decided. But he did seem nice. He’d let him stay, he’d dried his clothes and lent him spare ones, he’d made him tea. And he’d listened. He actually listened to what Sebastian had to say, even if it was just about stupid _Cave Saga X_. He didn’t know why Elliott was being so nice to him.

“You have a lovely smile, you know.” The words snapped Sebastian out of his daze and he looked up.

“What?” he asked.

“When you smile, your eyes soften,” Elliott said. “You look pleased. Happy. I don’t think I’ve seen you look like that before.” Sebastian was quiet, unsure of how to respond. Unsure of how to _feel_ , really. People rarely said nice things about how he looked, especially other guys. He hadn’t gotten a compliment on his smile in – well, ever. Not really. But he needed to say something.

“Uh. Thanks.” _Brilliant._ “I, uh…”

“I’m sorry. That made you uncomfortable,” Elliott said. His voice and eyes were both concerned. “It just struck me. Sometimes I give compliments without even thinking.” He looked down at his hands.

“It’s okay, really,” Sebastian said. He chewed on his lip ring – an old habit, but one that he found himself falling back into. “I don’t mind. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Elliott smiled up at him, a little shyly. “I promise I’ll run future compliments by you in writing before saying them aloud,” he said. “Would you prefer a text message or ink on parchment?”

Sebastian couldn’t help the snort of laughter. “Ostrich quill with turquoise ink on hand-rolled papyrus,” he said dryly. Elliott made a grand show of giving him a bow.

“Your wish, my et cetera,” he said. Sebastian chuckled again.

“I gotta admit, I thought you were a lot more stuck up than this,” he said. Elliott’s smile faded and Sebastian kicked himself. _Stupid._

“Why is that?” Elliott asked.

“Well, I mean…” Sebastian scrambled for words. Elliott had been so nice to him and he somehow kept ending up insulting him. “Just, you always dress and talk like you’re…” nothing he was reaching for sounded nice. _Like you’re better than us. Like you’re rich. Like you’re from a Charles Dickens novel. Like you’re an asshole._ He didn’t mean that last one. Maybe at one point he had, but Elliott was definitely not an asshole.

_**I’m** the asshole._

“I see.” He’d missed his opportunity to explain. Elliott was sitting back in his chair now. “I… didn’t realize that was how I was coming across,” he said. “I suppose much of the town feels that way?”

“No, hey, listen,” Sebastian was tripping over his words now. “Elliott, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think. I just –” He let out a long, frustrated breath, looking down at the table. “I always do this. I always say something stupid without thinking. And that’s why nobody likes me. No, not everybody thinks that. I mean, maybe they do, but I haven’t heard anyone say it. As far as I know, everybody thinks you’re eccentric and maybe a little crazy to live out in this shack, but nobody thinks bad of you.”

For a moment, the only sounds were the rain on the roof and the tumble of clothes in the dryer. Sebastian’s stomach twisted.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I just… I don’t make friends easy. I’m – I can’t –” _Shut up. Focus. Get it out._ He took in a breath and looked up, trying to catch Elliott’s gaze. “I’m the opposite of you,” he finally got out. “It’s really hard for me to say what I mean. And you just – it flows out of you. I don’t know how you do it. It’s like you always know the exact word for every moment. And not just because you know a lot of words, because you know how to say it.” 

Elliott looked up and Sebastian could see his eyes weren’t as guarded as they had been before. The words kept spilling out. “I’m sorry. You’ve been really nice to me tonight and I keep being an asshole to you,” he said. “I’m not… I’m not trying to be, I just – I can’t –”

“I don’t think you’re an asshole,” Elliott said. Sebastian was surprised to hear him repeat the profanity. Almost as surprised that his voice was still calm and kind. “I think you’ve been wounded a lot, and you put up guards to keep that from happening again. But the problem with that is it’s hard to let anybody in. It’s hard to ask for the help you need.”

Sebastian swallowed. A nervous laugh came up from the back of his throat. “What are you, a shrink?” he asked, but there was no bite in his voice.

“No,” Elliott said gently. “Just someone who’s observed a lot of people.” He paused before continuing. “You said you have a hard time making friends. I don’t know if that’s what you wanted, but if you did, I’d like to be your friend, Sebastian.” He smiled. “I think you’re rather interesting, and you have a perspective I don’t see much of in Pelican Town.”

Sebastian let out a small snort. “What, being a cynical bastard?” he asked. “Yeah, it’s me and Shane, and that’s about it.”

“No, not that,” Elliott said. “I mean you walk in the rain to come down and watch the ocean. You see what other people are doing but don’t talk about it to – well, just about anyone, I would wager. You’re clearly smart and have a good head for details, but you’d prefer not to let on about that.” He paused again. “And besides that, I certainly wouldn’t mind another friend.” His eyes crinkled slightly. “It does get lonely out here. And I’m not exactly a local, so it’s hard for me to infiltrate the local cliques.”

Sebastian suddenly realized he’d been holding his empty mug for most of the conversation and set it down on the table. “I had no idea you were lonely,” he said. “You always seem to be talking to someone when I see you in town.”

“Oh, I’m sociable, yes,” Elliott said. “I’ll talk with anyone. But as far as actual _friends_ go? I’m friends with Leah, certainly, and Willy. And Harvey, he's very kind. And Becca, of course, she seems to be trying to befriend the whole town.” He smiled, but there was some sadness in it. “But I wouldn’t say I have many legitimate friendships. Probably about as many as you, really. You’re very close with Sam and Abigail, at least.”

“I guess, yeah,” Sebastian said. They both jumped at the sound of the dryer announcing the end of its cycle.

“Ah. That’ll be your clothes,” Elliott said, getting up from his seat.

“I can get it,” Sebastian said, starting to get up. Elliott shook his head and strode over to the machine, crouching next to it.

“Nonsense,” he said, opening dryer and beginning to fold Sebastian’s things. “You’re my guest. Sit. At least let me be a good host.” Sebastian found himself watching as Elliott pulled one individual piece of clothing out of the dryer at a time, folding each carefully and balancing the growing stack on his knee. When he finished with the shirt, he took the stack and brought them over, smiling. Sebastian found himself smiling back, despite himself.

“Here you are, sir, freshly laundered,” Elliott said. “Or dried, at least. I’m not sure you want to stay here through a full wash cycle.”

“Thanks,” Sebastian said, standing and taking his clothes.

“Now, please take the umbrella. I don’t want you having to dry everything again as soon as you get home,” Elliott said, moving to the door and picking the umbrella up. “You can bring it back when you’re done with the book…” he seemed to realize how much Sebastian was suddenly carrying. 

“Hmm. One moment.” Elliott moved back to the kitchen and reached under the sink, pulling out a small plastic bag, the kind Demetrius always carried when he came back from shopping at Pierre’s. He picked up the book and placed it at the bottom of the bag, then held it open for Sebastian to place his dry clothes inside.

“What about your stuff?” Sebastian asked, raising a shoulder to indicate the sweatshirt and pajama bottoms.

“Bring them back when it’s convenient,” Elliott smiled. “I do know where you live, after all.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Sebastian said, placing his clothes in the bag. “All right. Well, thanks. For the tea, and drying my clothes, and…” he trailed off.

“Being a friend?” Elliott asked. His tone was hopeful. Sebastian found himself smiling again, despite himself.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “Being a friend.” Elliott’s smile brightened.

“Be careful on the walk home,” he told Sebastian, moving with him to the door. He pushed the door open and opened the umbrella, handing it to Sebastian.

For reasons he couldn’t explain, when their hands touched as Elliott handed him the umbrella, Sebastian felt a quick electric spark surge through his blood. He shook the feeling off. It had been so long since anybody had touched him, other than Sam or Abby shoving at him or slouching down on the couch next to him. But the sensation was… nice. And Elliott was smiling at him.

“I will,” he said, closing his hand around the umbrella handle. He slid his shoes back on, ignoring their wetness. If that was the worst he had to deal with, he’d live. “I’ll bring your stuff back soon, promise,” he said.

“I look forward to it. And to seeing you again,” Elliott said. He smiled and watched from the door as Sebastian moved away from the cabin and up the beach to the stairs. As Sebastian disappeared up into the square, Elliott closed the door, shivering at the cold breeze.

He moved to the dining table and picked up the mug Sebastian had used. He brought it to the sink, rinsing it out alongside the one he had used earlier. A small bit of dish soap in each, swirling water around. Wiping down with a clean cloth. And they would be ready to use again. There was no dishwasher in the cabin, so he had to make sure the dishes were properly cleaned after each meal.

Elliott stifled a yawn. It was certainly getting late. He was starting to feel the effects of the chamomile tea. He turned out the light in the kitchen and made his way to the bathroom to ready himself for bed. He spotted Sebastian’s wallet and cigarettes by the sink and let out a small noise of dismay. _I’ll have to bring those by the carpenter’s tomorrow._

Elliott brushed his teeth, flossed, and gargled with mouthwash before applying lotion to his face and hands. He shrugged off his overcoat and hung it on the hook on the back of the bathroom door. He looked back in the mirror and took in a breath through his nose. This was the part he hated.

He unbuttoned his shirt and began to carefully peel it off, wincing as it moved over his skin. When the shirt was off, he did the same for his pants, loosening the belt and cringing as he had to bend and slide the fabric over his legs. At last, he folded the shirt and pants, avoiding looking in the mirror. Clad now in his underwear and undershirt, he picked up the lotion and moved back to his bed. He began to slowly apply the lotion over his arms, legs, and torso, never too fast or too much at a time. He didn’t want to aggravate anything.

After the long process, Elliott placed the lotion on the small table near his bed and slid under the covers. He turned the light out, only to be distracted by a small green glow near his desk. He was confused for a moment, until he realized he hadn’t turned his computer off. He let out a sigh and turned the light back on, moving over to the desk. It was late and he was cold, and he just wanted to get some sleep.

Elliott moved the mouse to have the monitor turn on. A blank word processing document awaited him. He hovered the mouse over the X.

And then stopped. At the back of his head, there was a familiar prickle. Something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. The sort of feeling he had when he was on the verge of starting a story. He moved the mouse away and looked at the blinking cursor. He placed his hands on the keyboard, thinking for a moment about what was going through his head. And then, slowly, his fingers moved on the keyboard.

_Everything on the planet Abraxas was born from the amethyst waters of the Jeweled Ocean. The Abraxans believed that the great creator, when she birthed the universe and all the planets and stars, took special time to ensure the Jeweled Ocean touched into every corner of Abraxas. It kissed the northernmost islands, bringing fish in the summer and freezing over to create land bridges in the winter. It pooled into the Bay of Plenty and traveled up rivers into the vast western continent, providing fresh water to the tribes of nomads who roamed its great wastes. And it brought spring storms to the rocky expanse of the jagged southern continent, allowing those who could manage living on the dismal shores to grow food for a few precious months of the year._

_The Abraxans, then, were despondent at the deep platforms erected by the colonists over the Jeweled Ocean. Though these platforms did not spread widely, they reached down into the very depths of the ocean, plundering the precious gasses that were buried at the bottom, frozen solid beneath the icy ocean floor. This had been one of the major points of contestation between the colonists and the Abraxans, and the Planetary Collective had finally decided to step in. Since Abraxas was not – yet – part of the Collective, the brave men and women of the Senate’s Special Forces were responsible for keeping the peace. Which, as they all understood, meant ensuring the Abraxans did not rise up and overthrow the mining that was so crucial to this sector._

_It was not the first time Lieutenant Crane had visited Abraxas, but it was certainly the most memorable. The descent through the planet’s atmosphere had been far rockier than normal, no doubt a result of the methane mining that released clouds of noxious gas into the atmosphere and dimmed the light of the planet’s two suns and seven moons. His teeth gritted as he piloted the lander through the violent turbulence that threatened to tear it to pieces and send him – lander, supplies, and all – into a spark of fire across the tangerine sky. Lesser men would have abandoned the attempt. They would have pulled back and sent a message of regrets, along with a promise to try the following day, when the landing might not be so rough._

_But nobody could say that Sebastian Crane was a coward._

Elliott stopped. The cursor blinked after the last sentence. He moved the mouse to rest after the main character’s first name. He pressed backspace several times, until only the first two letters remained, then hit four more keys.

_But nobody could say that Seamus Crane was a coward._

Much better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys, thank you so much for reading the first chapter of “Fire Walk with Me”! This is a story that’s been germinating for a long while, one that I’m finally ready to start putting down on paper. Sebastian and Elliott are two of my absolute favorite _Stardew Valley_ characters and I’ve always imagined how they would interact with each other, especially given how vastly different their personalities are. This first chapter has flowed really well and I’m very excited to get started telling this story.
> 
> Though I’m uploading this first chapter on a Thursday, my usual upload schedule is once a week, which for this story will be on Fridays (or the occasional Saturday if I’ve had a busy week at work). The next chapter will be up on Friday, November 13.
> 
> If you’ve enjoyed the first chapter, please do leave a comment or a kudos. I’m really looking forward to hearing what you have to say. Thank you for reading, and I’ll see you next week!


	2. Paper Cuts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author notes: The song I listened to while writing this chapter was “The Hours” by Philip Glass, found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wkof3nPK--Y).

“If you do not tell the truth about yourself, you cannot tell it about other people.”  
-Virginia Woolf

It was past midnight by the time Sebastian made it back home. The lights were out. He knew they would be. Mom rose early, she was usually up by six. Demetrius wouldn’t be up much later than her. Maru would be tinkering, but in her room.

These were the moments where he actually felt like he could relax. The quiet was his sanctuary, where he could get up and get a drink or a snack and not have to deal with the routine of comments.

 _“Ah, so you decided to grace us with your presence.”_ Demetrius.

 _“Up at the crack of noon again, I see.”_ Mom.

 _“He lives!”_ Maru.

He’d tried explaining how exhausted he always was when he had to get up early and how he seemed to get a second wind around nine p.m. that would let him stay up until about two. He tried showing them the work that he got done when he stayed up. Once he’d even volunteered for a sleep study in Zuzu City, desperate for some proof that his sleep cycle started later than everybody else in his family. He hadn’t been chosen. And after that, he just stayed quiet.

The side door was unlocked, as he knew it would be. Nobody locked their doors in Pelican Town. He’d gotten used to slipping in and slipping out. He’d made the mistake the first few times of moving the door as slowly as he could, which only made the bottom hinge whine and creak. A steady pull was better. Less likely to make noise, less likely to wake anybody up. He stepped inside the mud room and closed Elliott’s umbrella, shaking it off outside before tying it up. He let out a breath. He didn’t want to leave it here. That would lead to questions. But carrying it through the house would drip, no question. And then Demetrius would get bent out of shape.

_Just come back with a towel and wipe the water up, you idiot._

He shucked off his still-soaked boots and wiped his feet on the mat before proceeding barefoot through the kitchen and down the stairs to his room. The basement hadn’t always been his room. When they first moved to Pelican Town, mom had built the second bedroom for him and Maru to share. That only lasted until he was twelve and she was eight, and then it was abundantly clear that they were not going to be able to share a room any longer. The basement had been finished for a while but was mostly used for storage. Then one day Sebastian had dragged his mattress through the house, down the stairs, and refused to sleep in the same room as Maru ever again.

So that had settled that.

Back in his room, Sebastian put the plastic bag with his clothes inside down and set the umbrella against his dresser. It would be dry enough by morning. If mom was working and Demetrius was out gathering samples, he could just slip out and bring it back to Elliott. Along with his clothes.

He was still wearing Elliott’s clothes. But he had to clean up the water.

 _Focus, stupid._ He closed his eyes and pressed his palms against his temples, focusing on breathing. He could hear the slight shudder in his breaths as he took them in. That was a warning sign. If he didn’t calm himself down, he was going to start to spin out. He put his back against the wall and slowly slid down until he was sitting on the floor. He focused on rubbing his temples with his palms.

He hated this. He hated how he couldn’t just be normal. Nobody else second-guessed themselves like this. Everybody else was able to just go _do_ things and not get hung up on stupid shit. His chest was starting to hurt. 

_Breathe. Breathe. Breathe._

Breathing was the only thing that helped. Focusing on the physical act, the air coming in and the carbon dioxide going out. So he did. He didn’t bother counting, that didn’t help. Each individual breath, the way it felt, the way it sounded, the way it tasted, the coolness coming in and the heat going out, that helped.

It took a few minutes before his chest stopped hurting and he could feel his hands stop shaking. He wiped at the heat in his eyes with the back of his hand and stood. Towel. That was the first thing. He stepped into the small bathroom off of his room and picked up a hand towel, moving up the stairs and quickly blotting up water from where it had dropped. He had no idea what Demetrius’s obsession with keeping the floors from being slick was, but even when he was a kid, that was the one thing that would set his stepfather off and get him lecturing.

Once the floors looked dry enough, Sebastian tossed the towel in the heap of laundry in the mud room and made his way back downstairs. He was exhausted. He just wanted to get to bed and not think about anything that had happened. He pulled Elliott’s sweatshirt and pajama bottoms off when he got back to his room and fished his t-shirt and boxers out of the plastic bag. He paused as his fingers brushed against the book. After he dressed, he pulled the book out and looked at it again. _The Left Hand of Darkness._ He flipped it open and rolled his eyes to see “Property of E. Rourke, MFA” written on the top of the inside cover.

_You gotta be fucking joking me._

That was the sort of thing that Elliott needed to tone down. Maybe Sebastian should talk to him about that. _Most people here didn’t even go to college. Don’t throw your degree around._ He closed the book and thought back to the way Elliott had tended to him, how he’d spoken so gently and reassuringly. Elliott wasn’t an asshole. But he sure had the appearance of one. Sebastian sat down at his desk and put the book next to his monitor.

His eyes swam as he looked over the project before him. Nope. There was no way he was getting any more work done tonight. He should just get to bed and try to figure things out in the morning. He closed out of his programming software and opened his internet browser out of habit. The blinking taskbar of JojaSearch greeted him. _What can Joja help you find today?_

 _A one-way ticket out of this place_ was Sebastian’s usual answer. Tonight, though, something scratched at the back of his head. A moment of curiosity. He reached over and picked up the book, flipping it open.

Rourke. R-O-U…

He finished typing Elliott’s name into the taskbar and hit Enter. The results that came up, as usual, included everyone with the first name Elliott and the last name Rourke. He thought for a second, then added _Zuzu State University_ to the end. The results that came back were much shorter, and he clicked on the graduation announcement from the Graduate School from two years back.

Sure enough, Elliott Charles Rourke, class of 2018, Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing. Thesis: _The Indigo Stain and Other Stories._ Sebastian hesitated for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he should keep looking into this. It felt like an invasion of privacy somehow. But it wasn’t like it was some secret. Elliott presented himself as a writer. And it was all over the place.

He clicked back to the search results and removed the name of the university, typing “The Indigo Stain” after Elliott’s name. He blinked at the results.

“Zuzu Continental Secures Rourke’s First Novel After Bidding War”

“ZSU Graduate Student Wins Fourteen Awards for Third Published Story”

“Elliott Rourke: The Next Great Ferngill Novelist?”

“Rourke Shortlisted for Governor’s Awards Ceremony for ‘Stain’”

Holy shit. Elliott was the real deal. Sebastian clicked on the first story and started reading through. A picture of Elliott, with slightly shorter hair and a wide smile, accompanied the text. Sebastian didn’t really know what a publisher’s bidding war entailed, but it sounded impressive. So what was this story about, anyway?

A few results down, Sebastian found a .pdf with the actual story in it. He clicked on it and groaned. _Twenty-eight pages?_ That hardly sounded like a short story. He glanced over at the clock. Almost one. No way he was going to be able to read this tonight. He turned his monitor off and stood, stretching. He furrowed his brow as he cracked his neck and back with his stretch. Sitting at his computer every day meant his back usually ended up hurting by the time he was ready for bed. He knew he should stretch. He should be doing some exercise. But there just never seemed to be any point to it.

Sebastian moved over to his bed and rolled more than fell into it. He reached up to turn the light off and placed his head on his pillow. It was earlier than he usually went to bed, but the night had been a weird one. If he’d been asked when he woke up that morning to pick one person in Pelican Town for him to end up spilling his emotions and his thoughts out to, Elliott would have been one of the very last on his list. But he… was a friend now? Elliott had seemed so eager for Sebastian to be his friend. He never would have thought someone who could talk as easily as Elliott did would be lonely. But those had been his words.

Sebastian rolled over on his back and put an arm up over his head. The thing that had been bothering him, that he now had plenty of time to think about, was how he’d reacted to Elliott’s touch. The hand on his back, guiding him into Elliott’s home, had been comforting. The shock of the electric jolt in his blood when they’d touched hands was something he didn’t know what to make of.

He had never even thought about Elliott this much before. He was just one of the faces in the crowd, someone to make fun of for his hair or his clothes or the way he talked and threw ten-gold words around. But now that he’d actually had a chance to get to know the guy a bit, he had to admit, he liked him. 

There was something comforting about Elliott. The way he looked at Sebastian with interest, the way he spoke so carefully. The way he smiled at him. Sebastian wasn’t used to making friends. And when he did, it didn’t usually feel like this.

Sebastian rolled over onto his side and came face-to-face with Elliott’s Zuzu State sweatshirt. He must have thrown it onto the bed when he changed earlier. He sighed and reached up to grab it and toss it into the corner of the room. Then he paused. Something made him feel okay about it being close. His hand closed around the sweatshirt and he pulled it closer to his chest. The fabric felt soft against his hand and the exposed skin at his throat. But it was more than that.

The scent. It _smelled_ like Elliott. Of course it would. It was his shirt. He probably slept in it. Sebastian couldn’t imagine Elliott ever wearing a sweatshirt otherwise. He would probably sooner be caught dead than be caught outside his house in a sweatshirt. Sebastian could hardly believe he was doing it, but he brought the sweatshirt up to his nose, inhaling cautiously. His eyes closed. It smelled warm. Woody. Like cedar. With a carpenter for a mother, Sebastian had gotten very good at telling wood scents apart. But there was more to it than that. There was salt in it, too, the salt of the sea air. And something refreshing – basil? It was hard to tell.

Sebastian hardly realized how he was curling his upper body around the sweatshirt. All he knew was the scent was calming his mind. Something about it was having the same effect that the soft, even tones of Elliott’s voice had had earlier. He brought his nose directly down onto the sweatshirt and sniffed carefully. There was something of a cologne here, he could tell that. And the salt, that wasn’t from Elliott. It was the scent of the sea. He could smell both of those, but there was something more than that.

It was the smell beneath the cologne and the sea air. The smell that coiled in through his nose and into his lungs and blessedly made his brain shut up. The smell that made him feel safe. That made him feel as though someone was here with him. With arms around him, holding him close. Talking quietly, in a warm, soft voice that pooled around him and let him sink into it, deep down into it where he was floating, safe and far away from anyone who might hurt him.

Sebastian’s breathing steadied and slowed. He kept the sweatshirt clutched against himself as he slept.

~~~

Elliott’s eyes hurt and his fingers were sore from typing so quickly, but he didn’t want to stop. The chapter was flowing from him and he didn’t trust that he would be able to continue this momentum if he went to bed.

_“Your delivery isn’t included on our schedule, Lieutenant,” the agent said, checking her monitor. “Who did you say asked you to come?”_

_Lieutenant Crane bit back the reply he wished to make and exhaled in annoyance. “General Hollings herself,” he said, tone dripping with derision. “I’m certain if you call her, she would be more than happy to take time away from coordinating the offensive against the Bataavians. Or maybe you’d prefer for me to just leave and take your food and medical supplies for the next cycle with me.”_

_“There is no need for sarcasm, Lieutenant,” the agent said, frowning behind her visor. “I am here to complete my job as surely as you are yours.” Nevertheless, she pressed a button at her station that opened the airlock doors and allowed Lieutenant Crane’s ship inside. He felt himself relax as he was allowed in. Somehow this always worried him. He was afraid of being turned away. As though he were being rejected again._

_Seamus Crane unstrapped himself and stepped out of the cockpit, picking up his bag as the docking crew began unloading the supplies from the cargo hold of his ship. Ignored by them, he pulled off his helmet and set it on his seat, proceeding out of the cargo hold._

_He had walked this way many times before. Nobody ever stopped him. Nobody ever asked him to account for what he was doing. And nobody ever spotted the small detonative device he had tucked into the armpit of his flight jacket._

Elliott paused, watching the cursor blinking below the last paragraph. _Eighteen pages. I just wrote eighteen pages in one sitting._ He wanted to scream with joy, to run out onto the beach and dance in the rain. If he hadn’t been so tired – and if it wouldn’t have hurt so much – he might well have done it.

Elliott saved the document. Then he saved it again, just to be sure. He closed his word processor and turned the computer off, sagging backward in his chair. He was exhausted. This was much later than he usually went to bed. But he was also exhilarated. This had been his most productive writing session since he was in school. He remained in his chair for a few moments longer, then forced himself up and over to his bed.

He crawled under the covers, savoring how they cut off the cold draftiness of the cabin. But he couldn’t bring himself to turn off the lights yet. He wanted to share this with somebody. Someone who would understand what he was going through.

He pulled his phone off the nightstand and flipped it open. A smart phone was one of the few technologies that he still resisted. He wasn’t a luddite about much, but something about having a constant source of distraction and entertainment nearby made him shudder to think about what it would do to his productivity. He opened his text messages and selected the top thread. The one with the most messages in it.

_Starling, are you still awake? I have marvelous news._

He sent the message and rested his phone on his chest, feeling the excitement still pumping through his veins. He knew if Leah was still up, she would respond quickly. She never hesitated that much. Sure enough, the chime of an incoming text message alerted him.

**_barely. what’s up?_ **

Leah always insisted on typing in all lowercase. Elliott had been horrified the first time he had seen it, but she mollified him by pointing out that she still used semicolons and em dashes correctly. 

_I have a first chapter. An actual first chapter. And an idea for where it’s going. It just came to me tonight. Meet me at the saloon tomorrow for drinks to celebrate?_

Writing full sentences and proper punctuation took longer on his small phone, but Elliott was a stickler for it. He watched, waiting to see what Leah’s response would be. Sure enough, it came through quickly.

_**yes!!! obviously! so proud of you! but let’s do friday instead. becca has me installing her new archway tomorrow afternoon. first round is on me!** _

Elliott found himself smiling widely. Becca had encouraged Leah to start making some of her work more widely available, which had been just the push she needed to start marketing her sculptures and paintings. Gus had commissioned a new seascape that now hung in the Stardrop Saloon. Marnie had bought a statue that sat outside of her ranch. And Elliott himself had supported his friend by purchasing a small painting, one that he had always admired. He’d had to go without his weekly meal at the saloon, but the beautiful small painting of a cut emerald now hung next to his writing desk.

_Marvelous! I’ll see you then, starling. Sleep well!_

Elliott closed his phone and set it back on the nightstand. Like the bed and the desk – and, surprisingly, the piano – it had come with the cabin and was showing every day of its age. But even if the furniture was worn and corroded from the constant exposure to the sea air, it had been made well and Elliott didn’t feel a need to replace any of it. He lay his head back on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling.

Leah was a good friend. More than that, she was his _best_ friend. He adored her. She had been the one to pick up the phone when he’d called her from the bathroom at James’s apartment in the wee hours of the morning, wracking with sobs and barely able to speak. She’d managed to calm him down and he’d told her about how James didn’t believe in him. How he’d told Elliott to get a real job and let the dream of writing go. How he realized that James had never believed in him, not once in all four years they’d been together

Leah had listened. She’d let him get everything out. And then, firmly, she’d said the words that put steel in his spine.

_“I have told you for years that even though I love you and will always accept and respect your decisions about who you choose to spend your life with, I have never felt James was a nice person and I was only being civil to him for your sake. You need to get out. Get out as soon as you can. Come to Pelican Town. You can stay with me for however long you need. If you stay there, he is going to choke the life and creativity and joy and light out of you, one day at a time. He’s been doing it for years already and it’s only now that you’ve noticed.”_

And so he’d gone. He had purchased boxes and started packing up his books and his clothes. And his mugs. And his computer. The train from Zuzu City ran to Stardew Valley twice a day. He had packed everything on a Thursday when James was at work. When James had come home that night, Elliott told him that he was leaving. He wanted to give James a chance to apologize, to realize how much he’d hurt Elliott and to plead with him not to go.

James hadn’t even fought. He’d just smiled. And he’d let Elliott go.

He spent a couple of weeks sleeping on the floor in Leah’s cabin while the money from the publisher cleared, then he’d spent some time looking around for a place to live. As much as he loved Leah, their roommate situation was one of necessity and as artists they both desperately needed their own space.

And that was how he ended up here. Listening to the rain on the roof at almost two in the morning and wondering about the very strange evening he had had. If Sebastian hadn’t walked down to the beach, hadn’t spoken to Elliott, hadn’t told him about that comic series – he really was going to have to request those from Gunther – then Elliott would never have gotten the first chapter written.

He would have to thank Sebastian properly. Elliott had barely spoken to him before tonight. His mother and stepfather, certainly. They were regulars at the saloon on Fridays. Even his sister seemed more gregarious. But Sebastian had been an enigma.

_A handsome enigma._

Elliott blinked at the thought. No. Certainly not. He rolled over on his side. He had no idea if Sebastian was anything other than straight. And even if he wasn’t, he was in his early twenties. Elliott would have been far too old for him. He _was_ handsome, though. Elliott didn’t usually go much for the gothic look, but Sebastian wasn’t really a full goth. The hair, that was dyed for certain. And the piercings. The lip and the eyebrow and the series of rings up the ridge of one ear. It was just enough to be a hint of danger. A hint of something with bite.

Elliott felt himself stirring, much to his embarrassment. _Stop that. He’s your friend. Don’t think of him like that._ He felt ashamed. But it had been so long since he’d felt another man’s touch. Only once, since he’d come to Pelican Town. And that had been not too long after. It had been more than a year. Close to a year and a half.

Elliott ached to be touched. He was lonely. It was more than just being lonely for a friend; he was lonely for companionship. For the exchange of kisses and words of ardor, for touches all over himself. Even the parts he never showed. The parts he was ashamed of. Elliott felt heat blossom in his stomach. He shut his eyes tightly and rolled over onto his back in defiance.

_You can just settle down and like it. You’re not getting touched tonight. I am not touching myself over someone close to ten years my junior._

With his eyes closed, though, Elliott found himself seeing Sebastian’s face. Not the face that he was used to, the sullen, scowling expression that he could see in the game room of the saloon or sitting on the edge of a festival. The face he’d seen tonight. The hazel eyes, the ones that had so much doubt and sadness in them. The soft smile, the one that made the corners of his eyes crinkle and the muscles in his cheeks and neck relax. The one that he couldn’t help telling Sebastian was lovely.

_It is an awfully lovely smile, though._

Elliott groaned and pulled a pillow over his face. It was going to be a while before he fell asleep.

~~~

Sebastian’s eyes slowly fluttered open. His lips twitched upward and he rolled his shoulders back. He’d slept… well. He didn’t usually sleep so deeply. Usually he woke up at least a couple of times during the night, but he had gone out like a light.

Something was tickling his nose. He tried to blink the sleep away from his eyes and pulled his face back.

_Oh, fuck._

He retreated from the sweatshirt like it was a rattlesnake. _Fuck. Fuck. You fucking creep. You smelled that like a goddamn stalker. Are you getting off on the way he smells? Might as well ask him for a jockstrap while you’re at it._

Sebastian put his palms to his eyes as though he could block out the internal voice or the shame that was eating at him. He had _smelled_ Elliott. Had purposefully inhaled his scent off the sweatshirt. That had been what let him fall asleep so easily. What must have kept him asleep. He felt like he was going to be sick. He felt like he was going to cry. What kind of a pervert was he? _Fuck._

Sebastian choked on something halfway between a hiccup and a sob. Breathe. Remember to breathe. He clenched his fists tightly, his fingernails forming half-moons on his palm. He had to breathe. He couldn’t have an attack now. Mom was at work. She was right upstairs. She would hear. And then she’d come down and she’d want to know why he had a strange sweatshirt in his bed and _Yoba please save me from them asking questions, please not today._

Elliott had been so nice to him. He had taken him in, had made him tea, had dried his clothes, and had given him some of his own clothes to wear when it was clear he hardly had anything to spare. He’d talked to Sebastian. He’d made him feel like he wasn’t a complete fuckup, for once. And he was paying Elliott back by smelling his clothes and feeling – shit. Sebastian didn’t even know what he was feeling, just that it was making him queasy to think about.

He didn’t deserve to have Elliott as a friend.

 _Breathe. Breathe, dammit._ He heard a quiet noise of distress coming from the back of his throat. Why was he this way? Why did he have to be so fucking _weird?_ Why couldn’t he just be normal? Sebastian felt the heat pooling in his eyes. He scrunched them together tighter as though that was going to stop the tears from coming.

 _Breathe. Breathe. Breathe._ He focused on the air coming in and out of his lungs. _You were half asleep last night. You didn’t even know you were doing it. It’s going to be okay. Just breathe._ One last sob bubbled up from his chest. Then his breathing started to settle. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.

Fuck. He needed coffee. And a shower. And to forget about Elliott. He’d bring his stuff back today, and then put Elliott out of his mind. He pushed himself up from his bed and padded toward the door, moving upstairs to the kitchen.

Coffee. He reached in the cupboard for a mug and poured himself a cup, inhaling the rich aroma. Coffee was supposed to reset your sense of smell. He remembered reading that somewhere. He could reset his smell and not think about Elliott. He stood next to the coffeepot, smelling the brew deeper than he usually did. It was all he could do to keep himself from being jittery.

“Morning, Sebby.” The words from the door made him startle and he swore under his breath as the coffee jostled out from his mug over his hand. He put the mug down on the counter and grabbed some paper towels to clean up.

Robin furrowed her brows. Even Sebastian wasn’t usually _this_ jumpy. “Everything okay?” she asked, moving into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Sebastian said tightly. “Yeah, sorry.” He mopped up the spilled coffee from the counter, tossing the wadded paper towels into the bin next to the counter.

Robin moved over to the refrigerator and opened the door. “You’re up early today. You must have slept well.”

Sebastian furrowed his brows before looking over to the clock. 9:05. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up before ten. “Yeah, I guess,” he said. He brought the cup to his mouth, sipping at it. “I went out for a walk last night. It must have tired me out.”

“I heard you go out,” Robin said, lifting her head and meeting his gaze. “Didn’t hear you come back in, though. You must have been gone for a while.”

Sebastian felt his stomach clench. _Please, not the third degree. Not today._ “I went down to the beach,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’ve been having a hard time with this program I’m trying to fix. I needed to think.”

Robin nodded. “I used to do that a lot when I was younger,” she said, pulling a carton of eggs out of the refrigerator. Sebastian felt himself relax. “Something about going out at night helped put things into perspective.” She set the eggs on the counter. “I was going to make some scrambled eggs. Do you want any?”

Sebastian’s upper lip curled. “No.” He caught himself. “No, thanks.” He hated eggs. He didn’t know why she always had such a hard time remembering that. “I’ll just have some toast. I need to shower and get back to work.”

“Suit yourself,” Robin said, pulling a pan out of the cupboard. She began cracking eggs into a bowl. Sebastian moved around her to the breadbox and pulled a couple of slices out, sticking them in the toaster and pulling a jar of Becca’s orange marmalade out of the fridge. He hated most jellies, but this one wasn’t so sickly sweet. He wanted to eat quickly and get to work. He found himself drumming his fingers against the counter as he watched the toaster.

Robin placed the pan on the stove and turned on the heat. “So, are you and Abby and Sam planning anything fun for spring?” she asked.

Sebastian’s spirit drooped. She was going to try small talk. “Not really,” he said. The bread popped up in the toaster and he pulled out the first slice, grunting as the heat burned his fingers. He dropped the toast on his plate and shook his hand. “I mean, we always meet up at the saloon on Fridays, and I’m going to practice with Sam on Saturday. Nothing else.”

He could feel his mother looking at him. _Don’t say anything. Please, mom. Please._

“I just wish you had something more going on, Sebby.” Annnnd there it was. The guilt trip. “You’re so smart and there’s so much you can do. I don’t want you being stuck in a rut.”

“I’m not in a rut,” he said, grabbing the other slice of toast. He knew it was a lie, but he needed to get out of there. He started spreading marmalade on the toast quickly, watching as the bread was covered in the pale orange spread. “I’m doing a lot of projects for work. That’s keeping me busy. Just because I didn’t go to college doesn’t mean I don’t have a career.”

“I’m just saying I wish you had something that…” Robin sighed. “I wish you had something that brought your smile back.” Sebastian stopped spreading the marmalade and took in a breath through his nose. “I’m not trying to criticize you. I just worry about you.”

“I’m fine.” His voice had more of an edge to it than he was intending. He breathed in again and tried to temper his voice. “I’m fine,” he said, not as sharply. “I just…” he didn’t even know what he was going to say. _I just want people to leave me alone. I just want everyone to stop thinking I’m a freak. I just want to not feel like you’re all staring at me all the time._

“Sebby?”

He hated that nickname. It was different when he was a kid. When he was four or five, she could have called him Prince Sebastian, Lord of the Tuna Melts and he would have been happy as a clam. But now “Sebby” just made him feel like she was infantilizing him again. Like he was still a teenager who didn’t know what he wanted to be when he grew up. He was twenty-three. And she never talked to Maru like this. Maru wasn’t going to college either. She had a job that paid less than Sebastian’s did. But she didn’t get told that what she was doing wasn’t important.

“I’ll be fine.” He grabbed his plate and coffee cup and quickly started walking out of the kitchen, not looking up in his mother’s direction. He walked down the stairs to his room and pushed the door closed with his foot. The sound of it shutting made him feel safe again. He could breathe. He brought the plate and mug over to the table in the middle of his room and sat down on one of the beanbag chairs he had for when he and Sam would play Solarian Chronicles. He picked up a piece of toast and started chewing.

He didn’t like blowing his mom off like this. But when she would stare at him and ask questions, he never knew how to respond. It hadn’t always been this way. Growing up, he’d felt like he could talk to her about anything. Like she was always going to listen to him. Like no matter what, he could tell her things.

And then one night when he was eleven, he’d gotten up to get a drink of water after he went to bed and he heard voices coming from mom and Demetrius’s room.

_“Sebastian told me he feels sad inside and he doesn’t know why. Do you think we should have him talk to a professional? I’m worried about him.”_

_“I think that’s a good idea. Maybe that will help him stop being so antisocial all the time.”_

Somehow it had never occurred to him that mom would tell Demetrius the things he told her. He’d slipped back into his and Maru’s room and curled up under the covers in his bed. His mind was racing. He knew Demetrius didn’t like him. He’d never liked Sebastian as much as Maru. Of course he didn’t. Maru was his actual daughter and Sebastian was just his stepson.

After that, he didn’t feel safe telling mom anything. He knew that whatever he would tell her was a pipeline straight to Demetrius, and he couldn’t stand Demetrius knowing what was going on with him.

_I’ve got to get out of this house._

It was hardly the first time he’d thought about it. He had been looking at apartments in Zuzu City for a while. He had more than enough saved for a deposit and to move him there. The problem was the cost of rent. Freelance work was never a guarantee. Some months he was so busy he had to turn projects down. Others he’d jump at anything, just to have something to do. It was the insecurity that made him anxious about pulling the trigger and going through with it.

He was good at what he did. There was no doubt about that. His clients always were happy with his work. But he didn’t have a degree. And without a degree, it didn’t matter how much practical experience he had. No firm was going to hire him. He was stuck. The quickest he could get a certificate, the bare minimum for an entry-level programming job, was six months. And doing that would mean he’d have to spend almost all of his savings on the tuition and cut down on how much work he took in while he was taking classes. Plus he’d have to actually travel for classes a couple of days a week.

Sebastian felt the weight of his situation pressing down on him on all sides. He closed his eyes and swallowed the last bite of toast. He wanted to explain to mom how desperately he wanted – _needed_ – to get out of Pelican Town. How much he hated it here. How he hated the stares and the voices and the people who always thought they knew everything about him. How he wanted to go to Zuzu City or Grampleton or anywhere else in Ferngill, somewhere he could blend in and wouldn’t stand out. Somewhere he could disappear. Somewhere he wouldn’t be a topic of conversation.

Somewhere he could be free.

But he could already see the hurt expression on mom’s face. He could practically hear the way she would ask him why he felt his life was so bad, the questions she’d ask. _Do you really want to get away from us that bad? Away from me? From Sam and Abby?_ It was already making his stomach hurt.

Fuck this. He got up and pulled his t-shirt off, moving for the bathroom. He needed a shower. He still felt a little cold from when he’d gotten caught in the rain last night. He stripped off his boxers and turned the shower on. He avoided looking at himself in the mirror while he waited for the water to warm up. He had been skinny and short ever since he was a kid. He always hoped he would get some of mom’s height, but no. Even Maru was taller than him. He felt like a dwarf next to Sam or Elliott or especially Harvey.

He knew nobody looked at him the way they did Alex. Or Elliott. He’d caught Abby staring with a stupid grin on her face the first time Leah brought Elliott to the saloon and had introduced her writer friend to everybody. It just made him feel more inadequate than ever.

He checked the water temperature. It was warm enough. He stepped inside and put his head under the spray, letting it soak in. Abby had never looked at him like that. Not even the one time they’d gotten super drunk after Spirit’s Eve and decided to try. They’d fumbled with each other, kissing more with nervousness than with passion. When he’d entered her, he’d almost felt like his chest was going to cave in on itself. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant feeling, like his lungs had collapsed. She’d had to coach him through it. He’d been a virgin. She hadn’t. And when he came – too fast, he knew, he hadn’t given her enough pleasure – she’d told him it was okay, and coached him through rubbing her where and how she liked it, until she reached her own release.

They’d never really talked about it after that. He got the feeling they were both embarrassed. He was embarrassed about how bad he’d been. She’d been embarrassed that – well, he didn’t know what she was embarrassed about. But they never tried again. He had thought he felt something for Abby, once. But after that, he knew it wasn’t what he’d thought it was.

That was the first, and only, time Sebastian had ever had sex. Unless you counted the times he and Sam had stroked together, but Sam had made it a point that they weren’t going to touch each other. Not even accidentally bumping hips against each other.

Yoba, it was weird to think about how he’d seen both of his best friends naked.

Sebastian rinsed the shampoo out of his hair and the soap off his body. When he was clean, he shut the water off and reached for a towel. He never felt the need to shower for long periods of time. It wasn’t like he ever sweated that much. He pulled the towel into the shower with him and dried his face and hair before moving to the rest of his body. He wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower. His mousse was the only other part of his morning routine. He squirted out the usual amount into his palm and started working it through his hair, getting it to stick up into the light spikes. He was grateful when Sam started putting more effort into his hair than Sebastian did into his. It was one less thing for people to talk about.

When he was satisfied with his hair, he moved back to his room and over to his dresser. A clean t-shirt and boxers followed by his usual black hoodie and jeans. Black socks. He rarely wore anything else. He moved to his computer and sat down, rolling his head from side to side. Time to work. He pressed the power button to boot his computer up out of sleep mode. He typed his password in without even thinking about it and his screen returned to what it had been on before he shut the computer down.

“The Indigo Stain” by Elliott Rourke.

Shit. That was right, he was looking Elliott up online last night. He let out an annoyed hiss through his teeth. Why was he thinking about Elliott so much? _Dude’s nice to you once and you get obsessed with him._ Sebastian glanced at the computer clock. 9:42. Hell, he wasn’t even planning to get started with work until almost noon. Maybe if he read this and saw just how pretentious Elliott’s writing was, he wouldn’t want to hang around him any longer.

_Sitting under the stark foliage of the willow tree, Belinda attempted for the fourth time that day to record her thoughts in her diary. It should have been easier than this, she knew. None of the other girls would read what she had written. At least, not after she’d placed a stinging nettle under the lock. That had shown Marjorie._

Sebastian blinked. That – that had not been how he expected the story to open. He read on.

_It was late March, in her last year at Miss Winifred’s Finishing School for Young Ladies. If Miss Winifred had been a real person, she was long gone to dust. Now it was Miss Priscilla and Miss Darcy who taught deportment and etiquette and all of the other social graces. It was the final step before mother and father would expect her to find herself a very successful gentleman caller. But oh, how dreary that sounded. Still, tonight should prove to be exhilarating. Tonight was the co-ed party with the boys from Grampton Hall. And ample opportunities for mischief abounded._

Sebastian found himself chuckling. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad.

~~~

Something was wrong. The sun coming in the window wasn’t as intense as it normally was when Elliott woke up. He stretched and reached for his phone to check the time. 

_Yoba, it’s nearly eleven._

Elliott let out a groan as he dropped his head back to the pillow. What a slugabed he was. His mother would have been appalled. He pressed his palms against the mattress and pushed himself up, stretching his back out. He knew it had been late when he’d finally fallen asleep, but he had not slept in this late since – well, probably since high school. He needed to get ready for the day.

Elliott shivered as his bare feet pressed against the cold floorboards. Except in summer, the floor was always cold in this cabin. He crossed the room to enter the bathroom and start up his shower. The water pressure was pitiful. It always was. But at least the heater was somewhat reliable. He could barely imagine how dreadful winters in this place would be if he couldn’t have a warm shower every morning.

Elliott carefully started to peel off his undershirt, wincing as he did. His skin hurt all the time, but especially when fabric brushed against it. He got the shirt off and ignored what he knew he would see in the mirror. His underwear was next, thankfully not pushing against as much skin as he lowered them and stepped out of them.

He stepped over to the mirror and picked up his hairbrush, carefully brushing from the bottom up and working out any of the tangles that seemed to form overnight. He’d learned this trick from a friend in graduate school who had hair all the way down her back. She swore that brushing before shampooing was the best way to avoid breakage or damage. The same with applying the coconut oil. Elliott knew that it would be at least five minutes before the water was warm enough, so he took his time, massaging the oil into the ends of his hair that always gave him the most trouble.

When he was satisfied with his pre-shower routine, he moved over and pulled the curtain back, stepping in. The shower brought gentle relief, both from the cold and the itch that he always felt in his skin. He lathered up with the body wash that Pierre was all too willing to special order for him. He hated having to pay the extra gold for the shipping, but regular soap just wasn’t an option. And then, the arduous process of lathering up his hair with shampoo. It had taken him a long time to find a shampoo that worked exactly the way he wanted it. And it had been a lot of trial and error to realize that the most expensive products weren’t always the best. Conditioner came next, first along his scalp and then out, working through one section at a time.

Taking care of his hair like this was almost a meditative process for Elliott. Whenever he rushed it, it always made him feel slightly off for the day. But taking care of the one physical feature that he truly liked, that he was proud to show off, gave him a sense of peace. The final rinse off was what made him feel ready for the day.

He turned off the shower and dried his body off as carefully as he could. Even the softest towels didn’t make this process easy. He took in a slight breath through his teeth as he dabbed at one of the tenderest spots on the outside of his ribcage. When he finished, he toweled as much of the excess water out of his hair as he could, then hung the towel over the shower bar.

The mirror was completely fogged up by this point. No matter. He didn’t need to see his reflection to take care of the next steps. First a light serum with some argan oil to prevent split ends. And then blow drying. This always took at least fifteen minutes, one section at a time, until his hair was freed from the wet and ready for the day.

He applied some moisturizer to his face and looked up into the mirror. From the chin up, things didn’t seem so bad. He’d hated his roman nose when he was a teenager, but now felt like it gave him some character. The skin on his face was clear, thank Yoba for that. And he knew that he wasn’t a bad-looking sort. He’d always been able to smile and charm his way with people. It was just from the neck down…

No. He didn’t need to start thinking about that now. Elliott left the bathroom and began to dress himself. An undershirt and clean underwear and socks. Then his button-down shirt. His tie and slacks, with his shirt meticulously tucked in. Then the overcoat. He pulled his hair back so that it cascaded over his shoulders and gave his reflection an approving smile in the small mirror that hung next to the wardrobe.

Not bad. It would do. Especially since he had an errand to run. He returned to the bathroom and picked up Sebastian’s wallet and cigarettes from where the younger man had left them the night before. _I do wish you didn’t smoke, dear Sebastian._ But it wasn’t his habit. He would return them to the carpenter’s. And then perhaps stop by the library or Pierre’s before returning home and working some more on his book.

His book. The thought brought a smile to his face as he stepped outside of his cabin and began making his way north to the bridge leading into Pelican Town. This one felt different. The story had started to unfold in his head as he wrote the first chapter. He hadn’t had so strong a main character in his previous attempts. And he hadn’t created a world so vividly before. A flutter of excitement spread out from his stomach and into the rest of his body. He just might manage to do this.

Pelican Town was beautiful in spring. Elliott always felt like it was the quintessential small town that he’d read about in books from the nineteenth century, with the mayor who had been in his position for decades, the small library and corner store, the people who tended gardens and swam in the sea and gossiped shamelessly.

If it weren’t for the ugly JojaMart in the northeast part of town, it would look almost idyllic.

Evelyn Mullner looked up from the planter she knelt before and smiled at Elliott, offering him a wave. He smiled back and paused to engage her in conversation.

“Good morning, granny,” he said, inhaling the soft scent of the richly colored magenta flowers. It had taken some gentle scolding from Evelyn before he was truly comfortable addressing her so informally. “My goodness, are those camellias? How beautiful.”

“They are indeed,” Evelyn said, pulling off her gardening gloves. She picked one of the blooms from where she was planting it and held it out to him. “You always have such an eye for flowers, Elliott.”

“Anything so beautiful deserves to be known for what it is,” Elliott said, smiling at the gift. He tucked it behind his ear, securing it in his thick auburn tresses. “Does it compliment my skin?”

Evelyn chuckled. “As handsome as you are, young man, you know everything compliments you,” she said, reaching down with her hand shovel for another scoop of mulch. “Are you off to Pierre’s?”

“No, to the mountain,” Elliott said, nearly unconsciously putting a hand in the pocket where Sebastian’s things were. “Running a quick errand and then I should be back home. But I’m in no rush, could I assist you at all? This looks like quite a job.”

Evelyn looked up at Elliott with a thoroughly unimpressed expression. “Elliott Rourke, I have taken care of planting the spring flowers in this town for the past twenty years,” she said. “And until my knees and eyes completely give out, I’ll keep doing it.”

Elliott raised his hands and backed away, smiling. “I admit defeat. Your will conquers mine as always, granny,” he said.

“Good boy,” Evelyn said, smiling. “If you’ll be in town later, stop by for a cookie. I’ve got a new recipe I’m trying out and don’t think I haven’t seen you lost some weight this winter.”

Elliott chuckled to cover the discomfort he felt. Winter had been a rough season. He’d had to cut his food budget more than he’d wanted. “That sounds marvelous, I’ll take you up on that. Until later.” He offered her a slight bow before proceeding north.

The rain had clearly been good for the trees and grass through town. Elliott always marveled at how quickly Pelican Town turned green after winter. It was like clockwork: on the first day of spring, the last of the snow always seemed to melt, and just a few days later the valley would be in full bloom. He hadn’t yet had a chance to walk up to the mountain and see it as it was in verdant splendor, but he knew it would be feast for all the senses.

The river gurgled as he passed by Pierre’s and the clinic, walking up the path to the mountain. The air here was so _clean_. It never ceased to amaze him after he’d lived in Zuzu City for so long. While he’d loved the cosmopolitan atmosphere and access to so many shops and restaurants and museums, the air pollution was terrible. He’d never had trouble breathing after he came to Pelican Town.

Elliott rounded the corner and his smile widened as he saw Sebastian moving quickly down the path toward him. This wouldn’t even take as much time as he’d thought.

“Ah, there’s the man I wanted to see,” he said as Sebastian approached. “How are you on this lovely –”

“You _fucking_ asshole!” Sebastian said, reaching out with one hand and shoving Elliott backward. Elliott was stunned, more by the words than the shove.

“What?” he asked, suddenly panicked. He quickly thought back to the night before. Clearly he’d done something to cause terrible offense. “What did – Sebastian, what’s wrong? What did I do?”

“You fucking asshole!” The words sounded raw coming from Sebastian and Elliott could see his eyes were red. “You killed her, that’s what you did!”

Elliott’s eyes widened and his jaw went slack. “I _beg_ your pardon?” he asked, voice tight. “What in the name of Yoba are you talking about?”

“Belinda!” Sebastian stopped a few feet from Elliott and brought the sleeve of his hoodie back across his face. “You killed her out of nowhere. Right when she was getting everything that made her happy and she had her whole future in front of her, you fucking killed her off!”

Elliott’s mind raced, trying to think of what Belinda Sebastian could possibly be talking about.

And then it clicked. His face went from confusion to delight as he said, “You read – Sebastian, you read ‘The Indigo Stain!’”

“Yeah, and it was fucking awesome!” Sebastian hadn’t lowered his voice. “I couldn’t stop reading it and I loved everything about it and then you ruined it by killing her off!” The sudden sob Sebastian gave made the smile drop completely off Elliott’s face. He realized that Sebastian’s eyes were wet and the redness in them wasn’t from anger but sadness.

Without even thinking how Sebastian would react, Elliott stepped forward and drew him in, holding him close and softly rubbing his back. “It’s all right,” he said quietly. “Sebastian, it’s all right. It’s only a story. You’re going to be fine.” Sebastian froze at the sudden hug, but the warmth and the quiet murmurs of Elliott’s voice caused him to slump against Elliott, the tears coming harder.

“Why’d you do it?” he asked, the pain in his voice making Elliott’s heart break. “What made you do something like that?”

“I…” Elliott began, before realizing how public all of this was. “Why don’t we go someplace quiet? My place, or the library, or somewhere, and I can tell you why I wrote the story the way I did? Will you let me do that?”

Sebastian didn’t respond at first. Then he nodded, his face still pressed against Elliott’s chest. Elliott smiled down at him.

“You know, I’ve never had anyone so angry at me because of what I wrote,” he said. Sebastian managed a small laugh. It wasn’t much, but it was something. He drew back and wiped at his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he got out. “I’m… shit. I’m sorry. I fucking hit you.”

“Well, you shoved me, you didn’t exactly hit me,” Elliott said. He put a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go to the library. It’s cool in there.” 

Sebastian nodded and let Elliott lead him through town. Elliott’s hand felt good on his shoulder. He had a very gentle touch, and the way he was rubbing at Sebastian’s collarbone with his thumb felt nice. But it was the way he’d felt when Elliott pulled him into the hug that was really making things short-circuit. He’d been so angry and felt so much emotion surging through his veins, but when Elliott hugged him, it was like everything just… vanished. The anger evaporated immediately and the only thing left was the tears that had been threatening the entire last three pages of the story.

As soon as he read that last devastating line – _Had anyone been able to raise their heads, they would have seen the first buds of the willow tree in bloom._ – he had been up the stairs, into the mud room, grabbing his boots, and stalking south. He hadn’t responded as Robin had called his name and asked him what was wrong. He saw red. He was so angry and so upset and so – he didn’t even know what. He never liked English class. He never liked reading any of the stories or plays or poems or books that he’d been assigned. None of it ever moved him the way his teachers always seemed to think it should. Nothing he’d ever read had hit him this hard.

And fucking Elliott was still being so nice to him. He had no idea why. He’d shoved him and yelled at him. Called him an asshole. Elliott had no reason to be nice to Sebastian. He should have yelled back. He should have threatened to call the constable, or whatever someone as pretentious as Elliott would call the valley security force. Not hugged him. Not reassured him. He didn’t deserve it.

His eyes stung again and he sniffed, trying to keep his nose from running. He was grateful Elliott wasn’t trying to talk to him or cheer him up. They were just walking, in silence, together. Elliott’s hand on his shoulder. The touch was…

He didn’t even know. Just like he didn’t know what Elliott touching him last night did to him. Or why he’d reacted to the smell of Elliott’s sweatshirt like he had.

“Here we are.” Sebastian looked up. They had already made it over to the library. Everything around was quiet. The only noises were the burbling of the river and a few muffled clangs from the blacksmith’s shop a small distance away. Elliott was looking down at him, concern evident in his kind eyes. “Would you like to go inside, or perhaps sit out here under the tree?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Whichever.” _No. Not under the tree._ He shook his head. “No. Inside. I want…”

“All right,” Elliott said gently. He reached out and opened the door, stepping inside. Gunther Thagard looked up from the desk and tipped his hat to them both. Elliott smiled back and guided Sebastian into the library.

Sebastian couldn’t even remember the last time he was in here. Probably senior year of high school when he had to pick out a book to do a report on. It looked almost the same as before. Across the way, Penny Batz was working on a lesson with her two young students. But there was nobody else here. Sebastian let Elliott lead him to one of the smaller tables, about as far from Penny and the kids as they could get. He slumped into one of the chairs and Elliott sat down across from him.

“Well, where do I begin?” Elliott asked rhetorically.

“Why’d you kill her?” Sebastian asked again. He swallowed, trying to get the lump in his throat to go down.

Elliott considered. “That’s… a more complicated question than it appears,” he said. “Could I tell you perhaps how the story evolved and where I originally thought it was going to go before I get there?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Sure. I guess.”

“Excellent,” Elliott said, giving him a small smile. “This was a story I wrote when I was in my last year of graduate school. I was taking an advanced workshop in fiction. And the professor who taught the course was an old salt who I absolutely did not appreciate. Rumor had it that he’d been teaching there since shortly after the founding of the university some hundred and forty years ago. He didn’t believe in happy endings, and I was determined to write a story with a happy ending to prove to him that quality literature did not mean misery and unhappiness all the time.”

“I don’t think you succeeded,” Sebastian said dryly.

Elliott chuckled. “Well, I certainly was determined to do so,” he said. “So I thought I would write a story about a young woman who was determined to chart her own course in a society that expected almost nothing from her other than to be a good wife and mother. And I wanted her to inspire those around her to do the same. And that was where Belinda came from. And the first draft – that’s how workshops go, you write a first draft and everyone critiques it, and then you write a second one later in the semester – was much of that. About the first twenty pages were exactly the same as how the story ended up. But instead of the story ending with Belinda’s accident, how I originally wrote it was that she got everything she desired and she ended up happy and content and going off with some of the other girls to be an absolute hellcat and give high society the dressing down it deserved.”

Sebastian was quiet for a moment. “So what happened to that story?” he asked.

Elliott looked down at his hands. He ran the thumb of his left hand over the knuckles on his right. “I submitted the first draft, and everyone read it, along with a couple of other stories that some other students had done, for the next week,” he said. “I was thrilled to hear what everyone had to say. And almost universally, the feedback I got was the same. They said it was very well written. They loved Belinda. But there was no conflict.” He looked up at Sebastian. “That’s the source of interest in literature. There has to be a conflict of some sort. And there was no doubt that Belinda was going to end up happy and doing what she wanted. And I wanted to push back and argue that there was conflict, that she was causing trouble, but I realized they were right. There’s nothing interesting about ‘and they all lived happily ever after.’ What’s interesting is the struggle of how they get there. And since I was so determined to get that happy ending, I’d forgotten to give any reason for anyone reading it to care.”

Sebastian found himself leaning forward. The way Elliott described writing was almost like the way his mother described her work. The care he put into every moment and word somehow grabbed him.

Elliott paused for a moment. “I went back to the drawing board. Or the writing board, if you prefer,” he said. “And I was truly stuck. Some part of me wanted to still be stubborn and insist on the story the way I initially envisioned it. But that’s not the hallmark of a successful writer. The successful writer doesn’t reject critiques, he considers them and weighs them, and then implements the most important part of them. I needed to change the focus of the story. Initially, I thought about going back and changing Belinda to someone who struggled, who was trod upon, who didn’t have anything. But that would have made her a completely different character.”

“And a lot less fun, it sounds,” Sebastian said.

Elliott chuckled. “That, too,” he admitted. “Part of what made her such a joy to write was how much mischief she got up to. And how much she loved life.” He paused again. “And it was that last part that made me think. Instead of making it a story where the happy ending comes after struggle, what if I made it a story that looks like it’s going for a happy ending, but there’s a tragedy that happens that makes everyone realize how precious life truly is?”

Sebastian felt a sudden settling in his chest. It was as though Elliott’s words had made things click into place. His face must have betrayed what he was thinking because Elliott smiled at him, a little sadly.

“That’s why she had to die,” he said. “The bon vivant, the beautiful, vivacious young woman with her entire life ahead of her died so that everyone else could learn to appreciate life all the more.”

“That’s kind of fucked up,” Sebastian said, though there was no anger in it.

“I suppose it is,” Elliott said. His smile was rueful. “But it made the story much more powerful. I learned a great deal about myself from writing it. And it was very well-received. The old salt professor spoke with me after I submitted my final draft and told me I would be a fool not to try publishing it. And that… well, that led me here, ultimately.”

Sebastian was quiet for a moment. “I saw you won a lot of awards for it,” he said.

“I did,” Elliott said. “It was perhaps that more than anything else that put the notion in my head that I could write a book.”

“If you write a book that’s even half as good as that…” Sebastian began, but paused. He felt some heat coming to his cheeks and his ears. He was about to start gushing. But Elliott looked pleased and put a hand on Sebastian’s.

“You’re very kind,” he said.

“I’m not,” Sebastian protested. Part of him wanted to pull his hand back, but another part – a much larger one – wanted Elliott to leave it there. “I yelled at you and shoved you. I’m a dick.”

“Would you believe me if I told you that once I realized what you were angry about, I was delighted?” Elliott asked.

“No,” Sebastian said simply. Elliott laughed, then caught himself, sending an apologetic look over in Penny’s direction. She gave him a momentary stern look – he knew she didn’t mean it, Penny was about as intimidating as a rose petal, but she had to pretend to be stern to keep the kids in line – before turning back to her lesson.

“I was, though,” he said, turning back to Sebastian. “Nobody has ever had that intense of a reaction to my writing before. That is – Sebastian, that is the dream. The dream of every artist, that we move someone so intensely, that we make someone _feel_ so intensely. Even if it’s emotion that isn’t immediately comfortable. I’m sorry I upset you with my story. Truly, I am. I would never want to make you as upset as I did. But it makes me ridiculously elated that you responded so strongly to it.”

This time, Sebastian _definitely_ felt the flush on his cheeks. He had no idea what to say. Elliott’s voice was so soft and warm and… calming. That was it, he suddenly realized. Elliott calmed him. He calmed down the screaming and heat of his brain, he made his nerves stop feeling so fried.

Being around Elliott and talking to him actually made Sebastian feel normal.

“I just…” he started. Elliott’s eyes were on him. Something about the gaze was making Sebastian’s pulse pound in his ears. He swallowed. “I just wanted her to be happy. It just felt unfair.”

“I know,” Elliott said. He took in and let out a long breath. “And you’re right, it _was_ unfair. But the story – it wouldn’t have worked any other way.” He smiled at Sebastian. “And life isn’t a story. It can have a happy ending.” He looked down and seemed to suddenly realize he was practically holding Sebastian’s hand. “Oh, excuse me,” he said, withdrawing his hand. “Actually, I have…” he reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a black leather wallet.

Sebastian looked down at them, then back up at Elliott. Elliott smiled. “You left them in my bathroom last night,” he said.

“I didn’t even realize,” Sebastian said. Elliott held them out and Sebastian carefully took them. He was only vaguely aware that he was moving slower than usual so he could touch Elliott’s hands again.

“It happens to the best of us,” Elliott said. “Once I misplaced my notebook with my story ideas on it and I couldn’t find it for two days. I tore my entire apartment to pieces looking for it. I was convinced I’d lost it. I was almost in tears. So I decided to make myself a drink so I would feel better. And I found it in the freezer when I went to get some ice.”

“The freezer,” Sebastian said, looking up at Elliott with a _you’re shitting me_ expression.

Elliott shrugged. “Your guess of how it ended up there is as good as mine,” he said. “The point is, sometimes things happen and we can’t explain it.” He smiled at Sebastian. “Something like that happened last night. I don’t know if it was our conversation or if you put the germ of an idea in my head. But after you left, I – well, I actually was able to start writing.”

“Really?” Sebastian asked, leaning forward.

“I got an entire chapter done,” Elliott said, his smile widening. “Eighteen pages. Now, it certainly still needs some revision, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep up that pace, but…” He looked down, then back up, his expression suddenly shy. “I think you lit the spark of creativity in me again.”

“That’s – Elliott, that’s great,” Sebastian said, his smile widening. “Can I read it?”

Elliott hesitated. “I – well, eventually, yes, of course,” he said. “But it’s still very rough right now. I want to make sure it’s as polished as possible. But when it’s ready, I would love for you to read it.”

“Yeah. Yeah, absolutely,” Sebastian said. He was suddenly aware of how much he and Elliott were both leaning across the table toward each other and drew back, flushing again.

Elliott chuckled and withdrew his hands. “Are you feeling a bit better now, at least?” he asked.

Sebastian nodded. “I’m sorry again. I feel terrible,” he said.

“Don’t,” Elliott said. “You’ve given me quite a gift. You inspired me. And – I suppose you’ll be playing pool with your friends tomorrow at the saloon, yes?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said. “Sam hasn’t figured out I’m not ever going to let him win.”

Elliott smiled. “Will you let me buy you a drink? To thank you?”

Sebastian felt a rush of – something – through his upper chest. “I – yeah, sure,” he said, his voice suddenly feeling tight. He cleared his throat. “Sure. I don’t like beer or wine, though.”

“Ah, hard liquor, then,” Elliott said, giving him a wink. “Let me guess – whiskey? Tequila? No, actually,” he said, holding up a finger before Sebastian could reply. “You can surprise me tomorrow night with your order.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “I’m sure you’ll be in suspense the whole time,” he said.

“I’ll be dying of anticipation,” Elliott said. He flickered his eyes to the clock on the other side of the library. “But as much as I do love your company, I should be on my way. I have to get my weekly shopping done at Pierre’s.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sebastian said, standing. “I’ve got – I need to get back to work. Or get started on work.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “This program’s giving me fits.”

“I wish I could offer anything more than encouragement, but I barely know how to do anything more than turn my computer on, type, and send emails,” Elliott said apologetically, standing as well and pushing in his chair.

Sebastian shrugged. “If that’s all you need to do, you don’t need any more than that,” he said.

Elliott paused. He turned to look at Sebastian. “That’s – rather profound advice,” he said, smiling. “I can’t think of many situations where that doesn’t apply.”

Sebastian shrugged, trying to hide his pleasure at the compliment. “I manage to not sound like a total idiot every once in a blue moon,” he said.

“I hardly think you’re an idiot,” Elliott said, beginning to walk toward the door. Sebastian followed along, about a half-step behind him. “If anything, you intimidate me with how smart you are about a lot of things I know nothing about.”

“Now you’re just trying to flatter me,” Sebastian said as they moved through the door and out into the sun.

“Certainly not,” Elliott said, turning to him. “If I were trying to flatter you, I’d talk about how fetching those freckles are, the way they play across your cheeks and draw a map of the perfect places to press soft kisses against.”

Sebastian froze as Elliott looked at him. Nobody had ever spoken to him like that. And the way it made his stomach flutter and his heart race, he was sure his face was betraying the effect it was having on him. “I – um – you,” he managed to get out. _Maybe you should learn how to speak first, idiot._

“ _If_ I were trying to flatter you, of course,” Elliott said, his voice suddenly soft. The two remained only a foot or so apart. Sebastian looked up into Elliott’s eyes, trying to figure out what Elliott meant. Was Elliott flirting with him? He couldn’t tell. But something had changed between them, and Sebastian suddenly felt like the ground underneath him wasn’t entirely stable. He swallowed, hard.

“You probably talk like that to everybody,” he said, his voice quieter than he thought it would be. The bite and accusation that he’d intended weren’t there.

“Hardly,” Elliott said. “Only to my muse.”

Sebastian managed a dry laugh at that. “You picked a pretty shitty muse, then,” he said. “I’m not exactly going to be visiting you in the middle of the night and shining inspiration on you.”

“Isn’t that precisely what you did last night?” Elliott asked. Sebastian opened his mouth to reply, then shut it.

“Touché,” he conceded. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Um…” he licked at his lips nervously, moving his gaze from Elliott’s. “I guess I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow night, then?”

“I look forward to it,” Elliott said. Sebastian managed a smile and turned, walking quickly back toward the mountain. Elliott watched as he went. 

When he was satisfied that Sebastian was out of eyeshot, he closed his eyes and leaned his back against the wall of the library, finally allowing himself to grimace. He loosened his tie and undid the top buttons of his shirt, cautiously reaching his hand inside his shirt and feeling under his undershirt.

His skin was sticky. He pulled his hand back. Dark red. He was bleeding. He’d suspected as much when his chest continued to throb well after Sebastian had shoved him there.

 _Bollocks._ He lowered his head. Of course something like this would happen, right as things were going well. He didn’t blame Sebastian. _It’s not his fault. He didn’t know. He couldn’t have known._ But he was going to have to take care of this.

And that meant he wasn’t going shopping at Pierre’s. He was going to have to see Dr. Harvey. Elliott pushed himself off of the wall of the library and tucked his hand into his jacket. The last thing he needed was anyone else asking what was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you guys, I am blown away at how warm a reception the first chapter got! Thank you so, so much for reading and leaving comments and kudos, it really made my day to see so many people react to the developing relationship between Sebastian and Elliott. If you’d like to see how I envision our two leads, please take a look at [pakkiedavie’s amazing Sebastian](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/ebb492a3-afe2-456c-84a0-27174360be19/dallp0u-01aa538c-6c6d-41bb-9438-60f0289d0008.jpg/v1/fill/w_1024,h_1449,q_75,strp/fan_art__sebastian_stardew_valley_by_pakkiedavie_dallp0u-fullview.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOiIsImlzcyI6InVybjphcHA6Iiwib2JqIjpbW3siaGVpZ2h0IjoiPD0xNDQ5IiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvZWJiNDkyYTMtYWZlMi00NTZjLTg0YTAtMjcxNzQzNjBiZTE5XC9kYWxscDB1LTAxYWE1MzhjLTZjNmQtNDFiYi05NDM4LTYwZjAyODlkMDAwOC5qcGciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9MTAyNCJ9XV0sImF1ZCI6WyJ1cm46c2VydmljZTppbWFnZS5vcGVyYXRpb25zIl19.aYmxy_IWmsK35situZ60no8tkpjRk9tJ0xGM_Lqh8EY) and [taksesal’s gorgeous Elliott](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/9e/10/5d/9e105d17acff74cf86873deba93cec2f.jpg) (with the slight change that I’ve always envisioned Elliott with brown eyes instead of green). I absolutely love how these incredibly talented artists have rendered them.
> 
> Now that Elliott’s book is starting to come together and Sebastian is dealing with all sorts of icky and uncomfortable feelings, how are they going to navigate this strange new relationship that’s building between them? What’s up with Elliott’s skin? How is Sebastian going to deal with having feelings for another man? 
> 
> So many questions! Will they be answered next time? Probably not! But I hope that you’re enjoying the story so far and seeing Elliott and Sebastian’s story start to unfold. I always love feedback, so don’t be afraid to post a comment or leave a kudos. Thank you again for reading, guys – I’ll see you next week!


	3. For What Ails You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I listened to while writing this chapter was “Whisky” by Four Walls, found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d9_WIOcLTxY).
> 
> This is the chapter with the first (albeit solo) smut in the story. So if that’s what you’re here for, enjoy!

“Accept what life offers you and try to drink from every cup. All wines should be tasted; some should only be sipped, but with others, drink the whole bottle.”  
-Paolo Coelho

Elliott had only been in the Pelican Clinic a few times previously. He knew that it was unlikely anyone would be there for an appointment, and even if they were, he wouldn’t have to wait long. As he pushed the door open, Maru Hill’s head jerked up from where she was writing something in a notebook and she quickly tucked it under the counter, putting a smile on her face and folding her hands as she looked back up at Elliott.

“Afternoon, Elliott,” she said. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, hello, Maru, good afternoon,” Elliott said, doing his best to manage a smile despite the pain radiating through his chest. “I was wondering if Dr. Harvey might be free for a walk-in appointment?”

“He’s all clear. Let me just pull your chart and let him know you’re here,” Maru said, hopping off the stool and moving over to the metal cabinet nearby. “Have a seat where you’d like, it should only be a couple of minutes,” she said, flipping through manila patient folders.

Elliott sat, placing his hands in his lap as he watched Maru busy herself. She and her brother were so unalike. Sometimes it was difficult to believe they were even related. _They’ve probably heard that their whole lives._ Elliott felt a slight pang of guilt. No doubt Sebastian hated being compared to his sister. He managed a smile at Maru as she stood and disappeared into the back of the clinic. 

Elliott leaned back in his seat, letting out a breath. He was going to have to think more carefully about the way he spoke to Sebastian. Sebastian clearly didn’t know what to make of Elliott’s compliments. No doubt a result of being a younger straight man who’d never had another man telling him things like that.

_I need to be kinder to him. I’ve been awful to tease him like this._

A sign on the wall caught Elliott’s attention and he furrowed his brow as he read.

_Is life sometimes difficult? Do you ever have trouble staying focused? Talk to your doctor about Pravoloxinone._

Elliott considered. It wasn’t as though he could afford a prescription right now, but perhaps it wouldn’t be a terrible idea to ask about something that could help him with his focus. It had certainly been a struggle to get to a point where he was ready to write. Perhaps it –

Wait a moment. Elliott furrowed his brow and got up, looking closer at the poster and reading the fine print at the bottom.

_Pravoloxinone is not for everyone. Side effects may include insomnia, severe anger, uncontrollable swelling of the throat, permanent discoloration of the lips, hair loss, and stroke. In extremely rare cases (1 in 500), test subjects experienced complete disintegration of one or more bones._

“Sweet Yoba,” Elliott muttered under his breath, shuddering as he returned to his seat. The poster made him concerned. Harvey wasn’t the type to overprescribe medication. If he’d had to put something like that up, the clinic must be doing worse than Elliott thought.

Of course it wasn’t as though there were a huge number of patients in Pelican Town. And Elliott doubted that any of the younger residents came in outside of their yearly physicals. Guilt gnawed at him again. He wondered how much longer Harvey would be able to keep this place open. _That’s what happens in small towns. First one service goes under, then another, and before you know it, nobody lives there anymore._

Elliott’s head lifted and he smiled as Dr. Harvey Schelling entered, giving him a warm glance.

“Hello, Elliott. We’re ready for you now,” he said. It was always the same phrase whenever Elliott showed up. He imagined Harvey had practiced the way he would greet his patients so that he balanced professionalism with a comforting bedside manner. Elliott stood and followed Harvey back into the examination room.

Harvey was about five years older than Elliott himself, nearly six and a half feet in height and beanpole thin. He wore sweater vests and khakis and his calm, kind demeanor instantly put patients at ease. When Elliott had moved to Pelican Town, he had spoken with Harvey a few times over a glass of wine at the saloon and had grown to like the kind-hearted doctor quite a bit. Even his mustache, which had looked more than a little ridiculous when Elliott had first seen Harvey, now seemed to suit him and his small-town doctor aesthetic.

Elliott took a seat on the examination table as Harvey closed the door and checked his chart. “You weren’t in here that long ago, so I’m guessing this isn’t a routine checkup,” he said, scanning the first pages of the chart quickly. He glanced up at Elliott. “What brings you in today?”

Elliott finally allowed himself to hunch over, no longer keeping the expression of pain from his face. “I fear I’m bleeding a bit,” he said, almost apologetically. “I was hoping you might mend me?”

Harvey’s expression immediately turned to one of concern and he pulled the stethoscope from around his neck, moving to put on a pair of disposable gloves. He returned and took a seat on his stool. “Yoba, Elliott, you should have told Maru. I would have gotten you back here straight away,” he said, affixing the second glove. “Where are you bleeding?” he asked.

“My chest,” Elliott said, pulling his overcoat off. Harvey took in a slight suck of air and Elliott looked down. Surely enough, his pristine white shirt was showing the reddish-brown stain of blood.

“And it’s the same as before? The eczema?” Harvey asked, looking up at Elliott with clear worry in his eyes.

“It’s gotten worse,” Elliott said, beginning to unbutton his shirt. “I think the salt air is drying my skin out. And it’s always bad in winter. It has been ever since I was a boy. It’s much more easily aggravated than when the weather is warmer and there’s more humidity.” He removed his shirt and sat on the exam table with just his undershirt on. “It should get a bit better as spring comes in more fully.”

“You may as well remove that as well,” Harvey said. “I can tell from your upper arms your skin is very inflamed.”

Elliott paused. “Just warning you, it’s not a pleasant sight,” he said. He put his hands on the hem of his undershirt and pulled it up over his head. When his chest came into view, Harvey took in a small breath and his brow furrowed as he looked to Elliott.

“Elliott, that looks so painful,” he said, moving closer to Elliott’s chest to inspect the raw, red skin. “I can _see_ the cracking. This is…” he sighed and shook his head before looking back to Elliott’s face. “You shouldn’t have to endure this,” he said. “You haven’t thought any more about starting the medication back up?”

“Oh, of course I have,” Elliott said, trying to avoid Harvey’s gaze. Under the fluorescent lights and with Harvey this close, he felt incredibly exposed. He always tried to keep this part of him hidden. If Harvey hadn’t been his doctor, he would have been even more embarrassed than he already was. “I think about it every day. But it’s the same thing as before. I can’t afford a prescription.”

Harvey looked pained. “But it was working when you were on it before?” he asked.

“When I had health insurance as a grad student? Yes,” Elliott said. “But it’s – I simply can’t afford it now. If it were a matter of life and death, I’d find some way to pay for it, even if I had to go without food. But it’s not life and death, it’s merely painful.”

“I could at least order some samples and let you have them,” Harvey said. “Most pharmacy companies will give at least a month or two’s worth to a clinic. That could help get this under control.”

“Absolutely not,” Elliott said. “I am not going to have you get in trouble because of my skin. I just need it cleaned up.”

Harvey looked up at Elliott as though there were many more things he wanted to say. But eventually he shook his head, moved to one of the cabinets and knelt, pulling out some pads of gauze and a sterile cleanser as well as a tube of ointment. He moved back over to Elliott, beginning to dab gingerly at the blood on his chest.

“Did you do anything out of the ordinary today to aggravate this?” he asked.

“I had a run-in with an angry reader,” Elliott said. Harvey gave him an unimpressed look. “No, that actually is what happened,” Elliott said. “Somebody read a story I wrote and was very aggrieved. I got a shove, and that’s what started the bleeding.”

“Who shoved you?” Harvey asked, brows furrowing.

“That isn’t important,” Elliott said. _I’m not going to get him in trouble._

Harvey sighed. “You are a very frustrating patient, Elliott Rourke,” he said, tilting the bottle of cleanser onto a larger gauze pad. “This is going to sting, just so you know. But I need to make sure there isn’t any bacteria on here before I put a bandage on.”

“I’ll be a brave boy,” Elliott said. He put his hands on the metal sides of the exam table. Harvey was clearly trying to be as gentle as possible as he applied the cleanser-soaked gauze to his chest, but Elliott still had to stifle a groan of pain as his chest burned under the application.

“I’m so sorry. I wish there were another way to do this,” Harvey said, his eyes clearly worried.

“You’re fine,” Elliott said tightly, gripping onto the table and squinting his eyes against the pain. “It isn’t anything I’m not used to.”

“We’ll try to make this quick,” Harvey said, gently swabbing the inflamed skin and exchanging the damp gauze pad for one that was clean and dry. After a few minutes of repeating the process, the color of the gauze that Harvey pulled away went from reddish to a pale yellow and finally came back clear. Harvey nodded and placed a larger piece of gauze over Elliott’s chest. “Hold this here for a moment,” he said. Elliott placed his hand carefully over the gauze as Harvey took off his gloves. He stepped out of the office and Elliott heard him say, “Maru, you can head home now. I’ll finish with Elliott and close up.” Elliott could hear Maru’s voice but couldn’t make out the words. “Of course. See you Tuesday,” Harvey said.

Harvey closed the door and returned to Elliott’s side. He applied a fresh pair of gloves and opened the tube of ointment. “This is a corticosteroid,” he said, applying some onto his gloved finger. “Move your hands, please.” Elliott pulled the gauze away and Harvey began gently, carefully applying it to his chest. “It’s an anti-inflammatory. This will help with the worst of it. It won’t fix the underlying disease, but it will help what’s there now heal and will make it so that you don’t feel so much pain all the time.”

“I don’t think I can afford that, either,” Elliott said quietly. Harvey stopped in his application and looked up.

“Did I ever tell you why I became a doctor in the first place?” he asked, continuing to apply the ointment.

“I don’t believe you have,” Elliott said.

“My family was very, very poor growing up,” Harvey said. “And when I was fourteen, my younger sister became extremely ill. Scarlet fever.” He pressed his lips together. “We couldn’t afford any treatment, but she was very contagious. There was a clinic near our house. The doctor came out after hours and she saw my sister. When she left, she provided some care instructions in an envelope. My mother opened the envelope and there were pills inside. She had left them at her own expense because she knew that my sister would likely die without them.”

Elliott was quiet. Harvey applied the last of the ointment and began taping gauze to Elliott’s chest. “I became a doctor because it was the thing I felt I could do to spread the most good in the world,” he said. “I could be working in Zuzu City or Grampleton and I would make a lot of money. Much more than I do now. But I didn’t go into medicine to make money.” He looked up at Elliott. “They need me here,” he said. “When I opened, it had been a year and a half before a doctor had last set up a practice in Pelican Town. Evelyn and George had to travel two hours in each direction by train, four times a year, to see a doctor for George. Alex was still in high school then, so he couldn’t go with them. Evelyn had to manage George’s wheelchair by herself through the city just to make it to their appointment. When I opened this clinic, they didn’t have to do that anymore.”

Elliott felt a slight pressure in his hand and looked down to see Harvey placing the tube of ointment in it and folding his fingers over it.

“No. No, Harvey, I can’t,” he said, trying to pass it back to the doctor.

“Please,” Harvey said, taking Elliott’s hand in his and firmly closing Elliott’s fingers over the tube. “If I can’t get you the medication that will help heal your skin, at least let me give you this so you don’t suffer so much.”

Elliott felt tears sting at the back of his eyes. “You’re…” he heard the catch in his voice and cleared his throat. “You’re very kind,” he said.

Harvey smiled and removed his gloves. “Let’s get your clothes back on. Do you need any help?” he asked.

“No, I – I’ll be fine,” Elliott said, swallowing to try to clear the lump in his throat. He slid the tube of ointment into his pocket and picked up his undershirt, sliding it carefully over his head. He had always known that Harvey was kind, but he hadn’t expected the doctor to give him medication without asking for payment.

It was that kindness which had first attracted Elliott to Harvey when he had moved to the valley. He had sensed the kindness and gentleness in the tall, shy doctor, and had gotten to know him slowly over drinks at the saloon and the occasional interaction in town. It was late one Friday when, both of them tipsy, Elliott had whispered a suggestion in Harvey’s ear. Harvey had blushed redder than a tomato but had quickly asked Gus for his tab. Moving together, they had returned to the clinic and stumbled up the stairs to Harvey’s apartment where they had pressed their lips together and quickly divested each other of their clothes. Later, with Harvey atop him and inside of him, Harvey’s arms underneath his back, feeling Harvey’s lips kissing him all over – his neck, his face, his mouth – softly but with the quiet heat of desire, and his hair flowing over the sheets in Harvey’s bed, Elliott had felt complete. He’d felt whole for the first time since he had left James.

It was only the next morning, when things had been awkward and neither had quite known what to say that Elliott began to realize their night together had not been the best idea. Harvey was a friend, and kind, and good, and a hard worker. He needed someone who could support him, who could be a rock for him. He didn’t need a shiftless layabout writer. And so, over eggs and coffee and pancakes, they had a necessary conversation. A conversation that started uncomfortably, eventually moved to jokes and nervous laughter, and ended with them agreeing that their friendship was too precious to risk over something like this.

It was one of the reasons why Elliott had been relieved when Becca had started spending so much time at the clinic. He had seen Harvey’s eyes soften around her and how he had taken to talking with her at the saloon like there was nobody else in the world. Elliott was thrilled for Becca and Harvey both. They each deserved someone to make them happy. And they were a good fit. Becca spoke enough for both of them, Harvey kept Becca grounded. Becca ensured Harvey wasn’t working too late and he ensured she was eating healthily.

Elliott carefully pulled his overcoat back on as Harvey put the last of his supplies away. “How much do I owe you for the visit?” he asked.

“Standard fee for a non-physical checkup,” Harvey said. “If you don’t have it with you now, you can –”

“Harvey,” Elliott said. He managed to catch the doctor’s eyes. “I do wish you would get better at accepting compensation from someone you’ve rendered services to.”

Harvey chuckled. Elliott pulled out his wallet, removing a few bills from inside. He had never understood why Ferngill insisted on still calling its currency gold when most of it was in paper form. He stood and handed the payment over to Harvey. Inside, he felt a pang of regret. Between this and his promised night out with Leah tomorrow, the rest of the month was going to be lean. But he shouldn’t be ungrateful. Harvey had saved him more money than he cared to think about, and the idea that his skin might clear up even a bit gave him a rush of relief.

Harvey placed Elliott’s payment in his shirt pocket. “Now with that ointment, you don’t need a huge amount, just about the size of a pea,” he said. “A little bit goes a long way. Spread it carefully over your chest, twice a day, in the morning after you’ve showered and again before bed. You should see some real improvement within a week. That tube should last you at least a couple of months. And if it’s helping, let me know. It’s nowhere near as expensive as the pills you used to take.”

Elliott stood and moved over, putting his arms around Harvey and hugging him tightly. Harvey was surprised but chuckled warmly and hugged Elliott back. “You’re a very, very good friend to me, Harvey,” Elliott said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I can’t tell you what this means to me. Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome,” Harvey said, patting Elliott’s back. He pulled back and looked down at him with as stern of a look as he could muster. “Now you can pay me back by taking better care of yourself, you hear?”

“Yes, doctor,” Elliott said, smiling. “I promise.”

~~~

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, a long groan escaping him. Fuck, it was late. It was nearly three in the morning, but once he’d realized what he needed to do with the code, he hadn’t wanted to stop. The error hadn’t been the code itself, it was the order in which it was being run. Some idiot in the hospital’s IT department must have put in the wrong sequence. If whoever it was had figured that out when they programmed it, it would have taken ten seconds to fix. Sebastian had needed to go through every single department’s programming, cut and paste the code into the correct place, and then run tests to verify that it was working.

Which it was. The electronic doctor signatures now appeared on the chart when the button was pressed. _Thank Yoba._ This project had taken way more time than he had wanted it to. But it was over now, and he’d be able to bill some extra gold for all the trial and error that he’d gone through. He’d check it once again in the morning – or the afternoon, depending on when he woke up – and then send it off to the company he freelanced through. Technically he had another couple of days to finish up, but Sebastian never liked to leave a project to sit once it was done.

He saved his work on his programming software and turned the monitor off, rubbing his face. He was exhausted. But it was the good kind of exhausted, the kind that came after a long day of work that paid off. He got up from his desk and moved over to the bathroom. He needed to get ready for bed. He grimaced upon seeing his reflection in the mirror. Those dark circles under his eyes were starting to get more and more prominent. He needed to get in a regular sleep pattern, he knew that.

Sebastian picked up his toothbrush and the tube of toothpaste, squeezing a small minty line onto the bristles of the brush. As he brushed his teeth, he thought back to how weirdly the morning had started and how surprised and excited Elliott had been when he realized Sebastian had read his work. He spat out toothpaste before continuing to brush his teeth. After he had gotten home in the afternoon, he’d saved Elliott’s story as a bookmark. He didn’t know if he would go back and read it again, but he wanted to keep it there, just in case.

He had managed to put Elliott out of his mind for most of the day. He didn’t know what to make of the weird feelings that he was dealing with whenever he spoke with Elliott – or even thought about him. His stomach clenched thinking of his shame this morning when he’d realized how intently he had been smelling Elliott’s sweatshirt the night before. _Fucking pervert._ He spat out toothpaste again and rinsed off his toothbrush. He wasn’t going to do that tonight. In fact, he was going to bring Elliott’s sweatshirt and pajama bottoms with him to the saloon tomorrow night, so he could hand them to Elliott in a bag. Out of sight, out of mind. He didn’t need to think about it.

Floss and mouthwash later, Sebastian opened the drawer of his vanity to pull out a small medicine bottle. Dr. Harvey had been hesitant to prescribe him sleeping pills – _“You’re so young, I don’t think it would be appropriate”_ – but had recommended an over-the-counter sleep aid for him. Sebastian shook a small white tablet out and popped it in his mouth. He leaned down to get a mouthful of water from the tap before swallowing. The pills didn’t make him fall asleep, they just made it a little easier to fall asleep. Especially on the nights where his brain wouldn’t shut up.

Sebastian pulled off his hoodie and shirt, then unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. Clad only in his boxers, he moved over to the bed, crawling in and reaching up to hit the light switch. His eyes started to slowly adjust to the dark as he lay, one arm over his head. In the dark, his brain started to drift back to the thoughts that had been consuming him. The ones that made his stomach clench and his heart race.

He couldn’t get Elliott’s face out of his head, and he had no idea why. Two days ago, he had barely thought about Elliott in the slightest. But since then they’d had two conversations that had completely changed the way Sebastian thought about Elliott. Elliott’s voice was gentle and warm and made him feel… safe? Weirdly enough? _What is wrong with me?_ Sebastian rolled over, only to come face to face with the sweatshirt once again.

 _No, please._ He reached up and grabbed it, tossing it to the foot of the bed. He picked up the pillow and put it over his head, pressing it as hard as he could against his eyes and ears, as if he could drown out the thoughts of Elliott that were creeping through. It was what Elliott had said to him that afternoon as they were leaving the library that had made Sebastian feel so anxious.

_If I were trying to flatter you, I’d talk about how fetching those freckles are, the way they play across your cheeks and draw a map of the perfect places to press soft kisses against._

The compliment stuck in him. He could remember each word, the quiet but so assured cadence of Elliott’s speech, the way the honeyed phrases had rolled off his tongue as though it was the most natural thing in the world to be able to flatter that easily.

And then it was the feeling of Elliott’s arms around him that grabbed hold of his mind and wouldn’t let go. How he’d been so _angry_ , how he’d seen red and been angry in a way he hadn’t in a long time. Angrier than when Maru’s mechanics drowned out his music. Angrier than when mom had accidentally spilled a glass of juice over his tablet. Angrier than when Demetrius had made him take down his snow goon. _It was just a stupid snowman the way I wanted to make it._

But Elliott’s embrace had shut that anger up. It had banished it. His arms made Sebastian feel as safe as his voice did.

And then Sebastian realized how he was straining at his boxers. _No._ No, he was not getting a hardon over Elliott Rourke. He was not. He refused. _I’m not gay. I’m not._ He groaned and pushed the pillow aside, curling up into a ball on the bed. Fuck. Fuck this. This was goddamn _embarrassing_.

“I’m not gay.” The words somehow seemed even quieter than he intended in the dark of the room. “I’m not.” He closed his eyes tightly and clenched his fists. He could feel the familiar indents of his nails on his palms. “I’m not. I’m not.”

_Then why can’t you stop thinking about him kissing you where your freckles are?_

Sebastian let out a small noise of despair from the back of his throat. _I’m not gay. I’m not gay. I’m not gay._

He was so hard. Damn it all. He placed a hand on himself, rubbing at the outside of his boxer briefs and letting out a quiet moan. _I’m just touching myself. I’m not thinking of him. I’m not._ And he wasn’t. He was pointedly not thinking of Elliott. He forced himself to think about porn he’d watched, porn with girls in it, porn that he’d gotten off to. He was hard, and he was thinking about something that had made him come. There was no harm in it.

Except that he was gritting his teeth. He wasn’t enjoying this at all. He was so hard it almost hurt. _I can’t be gay. I can’t. I can’t._

He knew mom would be fine with it if he was. He knew Demetrius would be. Maru would be. Sam and Abby would be fine, too. But there was a part of him who knew who wouldn’t be. And it scared the shit out of him. His mouth was dry. He didn’t know what to do. His brain was screaming at him to stop this, to stop thinking about Elliott and his long hair and the way he’d looked at Sebastian and the way his hands felt…

Fuck. Oh, fuck.

Sebastian couldn’t take it any longer. He reached his hand inside his underwear, gripping himself. Sweet relief spread through him as he began to stroke, slowly, feeling his hand sliding up and down and giving himself the pleasure he’d been craving. He’d been working so much and such late hours that he hadn’t touched himself in days. And this felt so good. It was making his nerves cool down and come to stillness. He reached his hand out of his underwear and put his hands on the waistband, sliding the garment off. He lay on his bed, completely nude, and let out a small shuddering breath as he began to stroke himself again.

With his hand gripping himself and stroking at the steady pace he craved, Sebastian let his other hand run over his stomach, his chest, down his arms, over his thighs. He shuddered at the sensation. He craved being touched like this, for someone to explore him and touch him gently, sensually. When he’d been with Abby, he had been the active one, the one who was making sure she felt good. He was so nervous he hadn’t even asked if she could touch him like this.

_Elliott would do it._

No. No no no. He was not going to go down that road. But then he started to imagine Elliott leaning over him, one hand gently rubbing at Sebastian’s chest, the other stroking him and giving him pleasure.

He forced himself to stop. He squinted his eyes tightly, trying to get the image out of his head. He didn’t want to think about how he’d felt a surge of hormones and pounding blood as soon as he began to envision Elliott touching him. _What is wrong with me?_

Sebastian sat up, pulling his hand off of himself and putting both hands to his face. He tried to breathe slowly, steadily. Maybe he was just delirious. He was exhausted. That was what was wrong. Except that his hardon wasn’t going down. Not in the slightest.

Sebastian knew what he wanted to do. He knew what his body was telling him he _needed_ to do. And so, hesitantly, he moved his hands from his face. In the dark, he could make out the slight shape of gray at the corner of the bed. Moving down toward it, he picked up the sweatshirt and brought it up to his face.

The second he breathed in Elliott’s scent, it was as though all the anxiety and fear pricking and scratching at his brain vanished. He felt his muscles relax. Most of his muscles.

Sebastian leaned back, resting his head on the pillow and keeping the sweatshirt close to his face. _Yoba, he smells so good._ He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He could hardly believe he was even _thinking_ about doing this. But the second he brought his hand back down to around his stiffness and inhaled again, it was as though electricity snapped and crackled through his blood. Sebastian could feel himself leaking over his hand as he brought it up and down, the heat starting to spread from his groin out into his abdomen and then the rest of his body.

Sebastian’s brain was foggy. He could hardly focus on anything other than the need for the touch and scent he was soaking in. But the images his mind was conjuring up were far from what he usually thought about when he touched himself. He imagined long auburn hair, soft brown eyes, and that voice – that beautiful, warm voice – whispering to him. He could imagine the touch on him, touching him everywhere, brushing fingers down his chest, tracing a pattern over his stomach, and finally resting on his length, stroking him just the way he liked it.

_If I were trying to flatter you_

Sebastian whimpered, the noise almost silenced by the sweatshirt that he held over his nose and mouth.

_I’d talk about how fetching those freckles are_

“Please…” the word escaped his mouth as he started to feel the tell-tale signs of his body starting to reach the precipice of release. His leg muscles were clenching. His breath was coming in short, quick gasps. He forced himself to breathe through his nose. The scent of Elliott was heightening everything he was experiencing to a level he hadn’t ever remembered feeling.

_The way they play across your cheeks_

Sebastian could feel the contraction inside his abdomen, the way everything seemed to be drawing into himself. His head tossed from one side to the next, almost unwittingly.

_And draw a map_

His skin felt like it was entirely covered in goosebumps. He could feel how the hairs on his arms and legs were standing up. His nipples were stiff.

_Of the perfect places_

And then Sebastian felt the full pull of the muscles and –

_To press soft kisses against_

– his stomach uncoiled. His entire body shuddered under the force of the orgasm that ripped through him. He pressed the sweatshirt against his mouth to muffle the cry that he couldn’t keep inside himself. His hips bucked involuntarily several times as he felt rope after rope of hot fluid spray against his stomach and chest.

Sebastian’s breath was coming as shallowly as he had ever felt it. He could feel the sweat breaking out across his chest and forehead and arms. He had only ever come that hard a few times in his life. His brain still felt fuzzy. He seemed to realize how much he was clenching his muscles and relaxed them, settling against the bed. He could hardly think. What thoughts did drift past seemed as though he were watching someone else think them.

And then the sickly feeling of guilt started to wind its way around his stomach and heart. Fuck. _Fuck._ He had just jerked off to Elliott. He’d smelled Elliott’s sweatshirt again, and this time he really _was_ being a pervert.

But oh, Yoba, it had _felt so good._ It was as though Sebastian had never known how to give himself pleasure before. And somehow the afterglow of his intense orgasm was making the guilt not latch on as intently as it had this morning.

The sticky strands across his torso began to cool and Sebastian pulled the sweatshirt from his face. He got up, his legs aching from the strain of the hard muscle clenching, and he stumbled through the dark to the bathroom. He grabbed a few tissues and wiped at himself, cleaning his torso as best he could. _I’ll shower in the morning._ When he was satisfied that he’d gotten his release cleaned off of himself, he tossed the tissues into the bin and turned around, fumbling his way back to his bed.

When he slid back into bed, he found himself staring at the ceiling. Something had changed. He still felt guilty over thinking of Elliott the way he had, but… it had just felt so good. He had never known that his body _could_ feel that good. He looked back over at the sweatshirt.

_You really are sick._

He brought the soft garment over to himself, cradling it under his chin. Like the night before, smelling Elliott on it was enough to make his eyes start fluttering. It was as though it drowned out the voice that kept saying all those things to him. Like it muffled the voice and made it not matter so much. Again, he found himself floating in blessed quiet, the sharp words he usually jabbed at himself held at bay. All was still around him. Just before he drifted completely away, Sebastian had one last thought of clarity.

_This is gonna be trouble._

And then sleep claimed him.

~~~

It would be technically true to say that the Stardrop Saloon was the most popular gathering place in Pelican Town. But it would be more accurate to say that the saloon was the _only_ gathering place in Pelican Town. Most nights, at least some small number of Pelican Town residents would hang out, eat, drink, listen to music, and then part ways. Fridays, however, were always busy.

Gus Russo, the proprietor, was always good for a friendly ear and a piping hot plate of home-cooked food. He smiled easily, didn’t skimp on the pours of alcohol, and seemed to thrive on making Pelican Town feel like a community.

Elliott pushed through the doors of the saloon, smiling at the sight of the crowd. Robin and Demetrius Hill were already dancing around the floor, all smiles and quiet comments and giggles as they moved. No matter what came on the jukebox, whether it was fast, slow, or mid-tempo, Robin and Demetrius seemed to know how to adjust their two-step to match the pace of the song.

At one end of the bar, Harvey sat, a slight flush to his features as he engaged in conversation with Becca Hwang. Elliott never knew how Becca managed to maintain the brilliant turquoise of her hair while working the farm as hard as she did, but there never looked to be even a hint of roots peeking through. As usual, she kept her long hair in a braid, but she had swapped her typical overalls for a purple blouse and black slacks. Her back was to Elliott, but from the look on Harvey’s face, she was telling him something very pleasant indeed.

At their usual table, Mayor Lewis Kingery and Marnie Nogales were at least a few drinks into their conversation. Lewis always seemed to smile a bit more when Marnie was around, and the way Marnie had her elbow on the table, propping her chin up with her hand and hanging on Lewis’s every word left no doubt about the worst-kept secret in town. Elliott had learned about Lewis and Marnie’s relationship within three days of moving to Pelican Town, just from overhearing the gossip of others.

And then there were the ones who were there alone. Or mostly alone. Marnie’s nephew Shane stood between the fireplace and the giant wooden bear statue that nearly reached the ceiling. He seemed to be busy working on another can of beer. Elliott’s gaze passed sympathetically over Shane. Despite his slovenly attire and the terrible posture which accentuated his beer belly, Shane wasn’t a bad-looking guy. But the few times Elliott had approached him, trying to strike up conversation or friendship, Shane had reacted either with hostility or – worse – a blank, glassy-eyed stare that made Elliott worried sick. He had seen that look enough times from other students in his program when they would meet for drinks. It rarely boded well.

Elliott had seen that look in Clint Evans’s eyes, too. Clint was the town’s blacksmith, a very talented gent, but quiet and – Elliott had slowly realized – deeply insecure. It was a surprising combination, especially given Clint’s size. He was, hands down, the largest person Elliott had ever seen, even taller than Harvey, but it was surprisingly easy to overlook him with how he slouched and quietly nursed his beer or whatever Gus’s special of the day was. Sitting at Clint’s table was Willy McBride, Elliott’s closest neighbor, and the proprietor of the local fishery. Unlike Clint, Willy was always smiling, always looking to talk to someone. He smiled at Elliott and raised his glass of mead before turning back to continue his one-sided conversation with Clint.

At opposite ends of the bar, Pierre Cooper and Pam Batz were both downing glasses of beer. Elliott had never truly known how to talk to either. Pierre seemed friendly enough on the surface, but Elliott had slowly come to realize that the man never talked about anything other than his business or his seething hatred of JojaCorp. And Pam, well… if Shane was heading in the direction of drinking too much every night, Pam had been on that path for a long, long time. Elliott had a feeling it was why he never saw Pam’s daughter Penny in the Stardrop.

And along the wall, in one of the booths, a woman with a long red braid, wearing a green vest and brown suspenders, got up and darted over to Elliott, putting her arms around him and squeezing him tightly. “You doofus, you finally did it!” she said. Elliott laughed and hugged her back.

“You always know the perfect words for any situation, my love,” he said. Leah Duchamp pulled back and smiled up at him. Leah was nearly a foot shorter than Elliott, and four years younger: twenty-seven to Elliott’s thirty-one. But she had confidence and poise the likes of which he could only dream of. They had met at Zuzu State U through mutual friends and quickly struck up a fast friendship.

“Come on. Get over here,” she said, dragging him by the hand over to the booth. “I already got us a bottle. Tell me all about it.”

Elliott allowed Leah to pull him along, pausing as he neared the table. “Oh – you mean you got us _each_ a bottle,” he said, looking at the two wine bottles on the table. A grin slid across his face. “Well, then, you certainly are spoiling me tonight,” he said, sliding in next to Leah.

“Yes, I got us each a bottle, because this is the one thing you are objectively wrong about,” Leah said, pouring herself a glass of red.

“I am, admittedly, not the biggest fan of James Joyce,” Elliott retorted, lifting the bottle of white and pouring himself a glass. “But on wine he was absolutely correct. ‘White wine is like electricity. Red wine looks and tastes like a liquified beefsteak.’”

Leah gave him a sour look, which made Elliott laugh again. “I tease. Enjoy your vampirism, starling,” he said.

“As long as you’re enjoying your glorified sparkling water,” she replied. “So. Out with it. What’s the book about?”

Elliott leaned back and took the first sip of wine. It coursed over his tongue with a crispness and bracing freshness that made him nearly want to weep. “Oh, I missed this,” he murmured. He looked over to Leah. “Well, what would you say if I told you I’m writing sci-fi?” he asked.

“Sci-fi? You’re joking,” Leah said.

“I most certainly am not,” Elliott said. And over their first glass, he told her about the world he was beginning to weave, of the planet Abraxas and the beautiful Jeweled Ocean that was being polluted by the Galactic Senate. About Lieutenant Crane and how his secret mission was only just now being hinted at. And about what he envisioned the next chapters, and the first arc of the story, to be.

When he finished, Leah placed her glass on the table and tilted the bottle up, refilling the glass. “I hate to say it, but it sounds really cool,” she said. “But seriously, what brought this on? I always thought you were a total snob about genre fiction.”

“I take umbrage to that,” Elliott said, straightening his posture. “I love mystery and sci-fi and horror. Hell, even a trashy romance novel can be pleasurable. There’s nothing noble about only professing appreciation for the great works of literature.”

“I’m just saying,” Leah said. “It sounds fantastic. And I’m thrilled you’ve got ideas and you’re going to make something happen. But I always thought you wanted to write the Great Ferngill Novel.”

At that, Elliott looked down into his glass. “I did,” he said, his voice quieter. “Or ‘I do’ might be the correct response, I suppose. And that novel… it might still be in me somewhere. But now’s not the right time for it to come out.” He looked up at Leah and gave a small smile. “But this one, now’s the right time for it.”

“Hey, if you’re happy, I’m thrilled,” Leah said. She nudged against Elliott. “So, what’s the title?”

“That I’m still working on,” Elliott said. “I have a few ideas, but… I think I’m going to wait to see which one feels best.” His gaze moved to the door and Leah could see his face light up. He lifted a hand and gave a quick wave.

Leah glanced over her shoulder to see Sebastian Larsson stepping inside. When Elliott caught his eye, Sebastian managed a small smile and wave before ducking into the side room where the pool table and arcade games were. She turned back to look at Elliott, who was smiling with warmth and more than a little indulgence in his eyes.

 _“Really,”_ she said, arching an eyebrow. Elliott suddenly seemed to remember he wasn’t alone and a slight flush came to his cheeks.

“I – Sebastian is my friend,” he said, making an uncharacteristic stumble over his words.

“Since when? I never knew you two to spend time together,” she said, lifting her glass and looking at him over the rim.

“Well, we… we spoke the other day. And yesterday as well,” Elliott said, taking a rather large gulp of wine. “He read ‘The Indigo Stain,’ you know.”

“No kidding?” Leah asked, making a moue. “I didn’t take him for the literary type.”

“He was rather vexed with me that I killed Belinda off,” Elliott said. “He –” Leah could see him swallow. When he spoke, his voice was quieter than before. “He actually inspired the idea behind my book. After we talked, I – well, I was able to write.”

Leah watched Elliott carefully for a long moment. “It’s not like you to fall this quickly,” she said at last.

Elliott jerked his head up, the flush returning to his cheeks. “I am not – Leah, I am _not_ falling for him,” he said, keeping his voice at a furious whisper. “He’s very nice and certainly pleasant to look at, but he is far too young for me.”

“Easy,” she said, patting his hand. “I won’t tease. But I haven’t seen that soft a look in your eyes in a long while. Just be careful, okay? He’s got spines.”

“He’s probably straighter than an arrow,” Elliott muttered into his glass. His brow furrowed as Emily Thomas, the barmaid, approached with two steaming plates.

“Here we are, two orders of crispy bass,” she said, smiling as she placed the plates down. Elliott couldn’t help liking Emily. She always had a kind word for everyone and never seemed cross.

“But we didn’t order…” he began, before turning to his dining companion. _“Leah,”_ he said.

“What? I’m allowed to spoil you,” she said, smiling knowingly. “And when you sell the book for a billion gold, you can spoil me.”

“Congratulations, by the way,” Emily said, pushing the plate of fish and roast vegetables in front of Elliott. Despite his annoyance with Leah paying for his food as well, he couldn’t help the gurgling of his stomach. The fish looked and smelled magnificent.

“Thank you very kindly,” he said, returning Emily’s smile. “And please give my compliments to the chef, this looks scrumptious.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know,” Emily said, beaming. “If there’s anything else you need, just holler.” She proceeded back to the bar as Elliott looked over to Leah.

“Thank you, Leah. Truly,” he said as he picked up his fork. “It’s been a leaner winter than I’d like to admit.”

“I know,” she said quietly. He looked up at her and could see the concern in her eyes. “I wish you’d let people help you, Elliott. Your pride is going to be your undoing one of these days.”

Elliott sighed. “On that, you are most assuredly correct,” he said, lifting the fork and bringing the first bite to his mouth. He closed his eyes, a small moan curling up from his chest. The breading was crisp, but the fish was still moist. It was heavenly. Elliott almost wanted to weep. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten something this good. After chewing and trying to savor the bite, he finally swallowed and smiled at Leah. “But it won’t be my undoing today.”

~~~

Sebastian eyed the pool table cautiously. He didn’t like this setup. He’d had an uncharacteristically bad break, and now his solid balls were scattered behind the striped ones. Then, suddenly, an opening revealed itself. He moved to the side of the table, chalking up his cue and carefully lining up his shot. He moved the cue back and forth slightly, trying to get it to just the right spot on the cue ball.

“Dude, just hit it already,” Sam Fischer groaned, leaning against the Joja Cola machine. “You’re already up by two and you’ve been eyeing this shot for three minutes.”

“He just wants to make sure the knife through the heart really hurts,” Abigail Cooper said, not looking up from the _Journey of the Prairie King_ machine that she never seemed to get past the first level on.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, then focused them on the ball before him. He brought his cue forward, striking the cue ball. It sped across the table, hitting first one side, then another. Sam groaned as it neared the solid green 6 ball, clacking loudly as the balls connected. The 6 ball spun forward, landing in the side pocket.

“I don’t freaking believe it,” he said, shaking his blond head. “How? How do you even manage shit like that?”

“If you hadn’t gotten a D in geometry, you’d be better at this,” Sebastian said, moving to the opposite side of the table and setting up his next shot.

“Yeah, if you can name me one career besides a pool player that actually uses geometry, I’ll shave my head,” Sam said.

Sebastian paused in lining up his cue stick and lifted his head. From the slow grin that was spreading across his face, Sam knew that he was going to regret that statement.

“Carpentry,” Sebastian said, his mouth curling up further on both sides. “Why do you think I picked it up so fast? I’ve watched mom measure angles since I was three.”

Sam looked like he might vomit. “You’re not going to make me actually shave my head,” he said, voice pleading.

“You’ll look good. I hear the jarhead look is in again,” Sebastian said, lowering his gaze to the table but not wiping the grin from his face.

“Seb!”

“Oh, calm down,” Abigail said, letting out a curse as the arcade game beeped sadly. “Damn it,” she grumbled, pushing back from the game. She looked over at Sam. “He would never make you shave your head. Then everybody would say he’s got the weirdest hair in town.”

“Hey, whose side are you on?” Sebastian asked, giving Abigail a mock glare.

“My own,” she said, moving to the couch and crashing onto it before picking up her beer and drinking it. “It’s the only one that lets me stay sane around you two idiots.”

“Why do we hang out with her again?” Sam asked Sebastian.

“Because I’m so cute,” Abigail said, smirking up at them. “And because there’s nobody else who’d hang out with you.”

Sebastian grumbled as he hit his next shot, the balls clacking. Despite how much shit he and Sam and Abby gave each other, this was his favorite part of the week. It was the only time where he felt like he could be himself, where he wasn’t trying to hide what was stuck inside of him. At least it usually was. The two conversations he’d had with Elliott this week had shaken that up.

Somehow, he hadn’t actually expected to see Elliott here tonight. The writer didn’t usually make it to the Stardrop on Fridays. But he and Leah were cozying up next to each other pretty nicely. Sebastian hadn’t expected the sudden drop in his stomach when he looked over and saw Elliott next to Leah. He should have guessed. Elliott probably flirted with anything with a pulse. And he and Leah – well, that made sense. They were both artists. They knew each other before Elliott moved to Pelican Town.

But seeing them together like that, sharing a meal and drinks, and talking so intimately – it had felt like a sudden sock to the gut. Even as Elliott smiled and waved at him, Sebastian had felt like he wanted to vanish. He didn’t want Elliott to be able to see the disappointment in his eyes. He did his best to smile as he waved back, then when he turned and made his way to the game room, he sat down heavily on the couch, taking in and letting out a long, shuddering breath. He was grateful that he’d beaten Abby and Sam here for once. He didn’t want to explain why he was upset so suddenly.

Sebastian sunk the last of the solid balls and moved to line up his shot for the 8 ball. Sam shook his head and turned, pulling a bill from his wallet and placing it in the Joja Cola machine.

“Gross,” Abigail said, crinkling her nose. “How can you drink that stuff? It could eat through metal.”

“I like it,” Sam shrugged as the can clinked into the vending slot. “It’s cheaper than beer and wine.”

“And it’s going to give you stomach cancer,” Sebastian said, hitting the cue ball. The 8 ball rolled forward, sinking into the corner pocket. He smiled and stood.

“Dude. Seb. You didn’t even let me get one in, you dick,” Sam complained.

“It’s not my fault you suck,” Sebastian said, leaning against his cue stick.

“Bite me.”

~~~

Elliott was feeling very pleasant. The plates of fish had been cleared some time ago and his bottle of wine was nearly empty. Leah was so nice. She was always so nice to him. He could hear her chuckling and he turned to her, the smile on his face wide.

“What is funny, starling?” he asked.

“You used to be able to drink anybody under the table,” she said. “Now three glasses of wine and you’re a total lightweight.”

“I most _certainly_ am not, and I resent the accusation,” he said, giving her the sternest look he could manage. “Look at you, all able to afford wine on a weekly basis and getting full of yourself.”

“You’ll be able to afford wine yourself again soon enough,” Leah said, draining the last of her glass. She set it down on the table and let out a long sigh of contentment. “I missed this, you know,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s been too long since we did this.”

“Agreed,” Elliott said, pouring the last of his bottle into his glass. “I hope…” he trailed off. He hardly even knew what to say. There were so many things he hoped for. _I hope the book is a success. I hope we both find happiness here. I hope my muse_ – he cut himself off from that last thought. That would be terribly gauche. Eventually, he looked to Leah with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I hope we can do this again soon. With it being my treat.”

Leah smiled up at Elliott. “Hey, you get that book finished,” she pushed off from him and started scooting around to the edge of the booth, “and the world’s your oyster.” She got up and stood. Elliott could tell that despite her appearance, she was a little tipsy. “You enjoy that last glass. I’ve got to get home. I’m getting to be an old woman and I like an early bedtime.”

“Very uncharacteristic of you,” Elliott said. “Would you care for me to escort you home?”

Leah waved a hand. “You finish that,” she said. “I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.”

Elliott bit back the retort he wanted to make about her height. She had treated him to a lovely evening and he couldn’t bring himself to tease her, even gently. “As you wish,” he said, offering her a half-bow from his seat. “Be safe, starling.”

“From what, the Pelican Town slasher?” Leah laughed. “We’re not in Zuzu anymore, Toto.” Her eyes softened. “But I will be.” She blew him a kiss and made her way for the door.

Elliott watched her go and settled back into the booth, letting out a long sigh of contentment. It had been a wonderful night. Good food, good wine, and good company. There was just one thing scratching at the back of his head. One thing he still wanted to do. A promise that he had to keep.

His gaze moved sideways as he heard footsteps coming from the game room. It looked like Abigail was leaving, with Sam not far behind her. Elliott felt his pulse quicken as he waited to see if Sebastian would be close behind them. When he didn’t appear, Elliott bit his lip. _Is he going to come over? Will he want to see me?_

His question was answered as Sebastian moved into the main room of the Stardrop and walked directly past Elliott’s table. Elliott’s gaze stayed on him as Sebastian walked in the direction of the men’s room. For a moment, the drunkest part of Elliott considered following. _It would hardly be your first drunken pass in a bar._ He shook his head. _Be quiet, you. He doesn’t deserve that._ He realized he was nervously drumming his fingers on the tabletop and pulled his hand back into a loose fist. He threw back the rest of his glass.

_Thirty-one and you’re acting like an anxious virgin. It’s just a drink._

It was a couple of minutes later that Sebastian exited the restroom, tossing the paper towel that he’d used to open the door into a small wastebasket nearby. As he passed by Elliott’s table, Elliott pulled his courage together and spoke up.

“Pardon me,” he said, quietly but with enough volume for Sebastian to hear. The younger man paused and looked up at Elliott.

“Yeah?” Sebastian asked. He was trying to avoid looking into Elliott’s eyes, but once they locked on his, Sebastian found himself unable to look away.

“If you’re not in too much of a hurry, could I buy you that drink now?” Elliott asked. Sebastian could tell from the energy wafting off him that Elliott was a few sheets to the wind. But somehow the knowledge that Elliott wasn’t as uptight as he usually was made Sebastian’s heart beat faster.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he said, moving over to the booth and sliding in. He swallowed once, nervously. “I, um, I forgot to grab your clothes and umbrella when I left. I’m sorry,” he said.

“That’s no trouble,” Elliott said, smiling. “I’m just thrilled to get to soak in your company again.” He looked up and caught Emily’s eye, waving slightly at her. Emily finished pouring Pierre another draft and wiped her hands on her apron before moving over to their table.

“Were you looking to open another bottle?” she asked Elliott.

“No, I was hoping to buy this handsome young gentleman a drink of his choice,” Elliott said. 

Sebastian’s breath caught at the compliment. _Yoba, please don’t let me make a fool of myself._ He could feel both Elliott and Emily’s eyes on him. At last, he looked up. “I’ll have my usual,” he said to Emily.

“One manhattan, coming up,” Emily said.

“Actually,” Elliott said before she could leave, “would you make that two?” He turned and smiled at Sebastian. “I’m fresh out, and I’d like to toast you.”

“Two it is,” Emily smiled. “Be right back.” She turned and made her way back to the bar, weaving around Robin and Demetrius on the dance floor.

“So, bourbon’s your poison of choice,” Elliott said, leaning an elbow on the table.

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, his tongue suddenly feeling heavy. Everything he might say sounded stupid in his head. This close to Elliott, the weight of his masturbation fantasy late the previous night suddenly made Sebastian’s stomach feel hot. _He’s so nice. He doesn’t deserve me drooling over him._

“That fits, somehow,” Elliott said. Sebastian could see his finger was tracing over the pattern in the wood on the table. Just as Elliott had done on his own table the night Sebastian ended up at his place. “Smoky, warm, a bit of a bite. But it goes down very, very smoothly.” The smile playing on his lips almost made Sebastian’s heart stop. “It suits you. It’s a good drink.”

Sebastian’s heart was pounding in his ears. He felt dizzy. But underneath it was a slight current of anger. “You really do talk to everybody like this,” he got out, his voice quiet so that nobody else in the bar could hear.

Elliott furrowed his brows. Even with a full bottle of white wine in him, he could tell something was bothering Sebastian. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“I saw –” Sebastian went quiet as Emily approached, carrying an amber-colored cocktail in each hand.

“Two manhattans, gentlemen,” she said, setting the drinks on the table. “You let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, Emily,” Elliott said, smiling. As she turned to leave, he looked back to Sebastian, the smile fading. “Sebastian, what’s the matter? Have I done something to upset you?”

“I just… I saw how you and Leah were all over each other,” Sebastian said, looking at the table. The knot in his stomach twisted tighter. “And now you’re calling me handsome and –” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat. He looked up at Elliott. “Do you actually mean any of it?” he asked.

Elliott’s eyes softened and he chuckled. “Sebastian, Leah is my best friend,” he said, his voice gentle. “I can assure you she’s not my type.”

“Why, because she’s short?” Sebastian asked, setting up what he knew would be the sucker punch from Elliott to end his feelings.

Elliott locked eyes with Sebastian. “Because she’s female.”

Sebastian felt like the center of his body fell out from him, leaving just a shell that once held organs and muscle and sinew. His throat went dry. He cleared his throat again. Of course he’d suspected, but to hear Elliott confirm it made everything feel askew.

_There’s a chance._

The thought came, unbidden, and Sebastian willed it away. He had to respond. He had to say something. “You’re, um,” he began, trying to get words out.

“A walking stereotype? I’m afraid so,” Elliott chuckled. His eyes never left Sebastian’s.

“I – I didn’t mean that,” Sebastian said.

“It’s fine,” Elliott said gently. He desperately wanted to reach across the table, to take Sebastian’s hand, but he didn’t dare, especially in public like this. _Small town, small minds._ “That doesn’t make you uncomfortable, does it?” he asked.

“No,” Sebastian said quickly. Too quickly. He cleared his throat and shook his head. “No, not at all. I just… I didn’t want to assume, or –” He had no idea where the sentence was going.

Elliott smiled and picked up his cocktail. He held it out. “I owe you this drink,” he said. “And I hope you enjoy it. What shall we drink to?”

Sebastian’s hand felt slightly shaky, but he followed suit, picking up his drink. “To, um…” he considered. What would be the right thing to say here? He’d barely even _heard_ anyone give a toast before. “To… your book.” He tapped his glass against Elliott’s.

Elliott smiled. “That’s very sweet of you,” he said. “But it would be rather selfish of me to accept. How about we toast to us? To our friendship?” He made sure to keep his eyes on Sebastian’s. “Your friendship means a great deal to me, you know,” he said. “And I hope it does to you as well.”

“It does,” Sebastian said, the words escaping him before he even realized he was going to speak them. “I – you’re a really great guy and I like you a lot.” _Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up shut up._ He clinked his glass against Elliott’s a little harder than necessary. “To our friendship.”

“Cheers,” Elliott smiled. He brought his glass back and took a long sip. Sebastian followed suit, savoring the warmth of the cocktail as it slid down his throat. He didn’t like drinking these in front of Sam and Abby, who teased him about liking girly drinks instead of the beer they both favored. But he knew neither one of them could hold their liquor. _I’d like to see them try._

Elliott put his glass down and let out a small whistle. “Goodness, she pours strong,” he said, a slight giggle slipping from his throat. Sebastian’s heart constricted to hear it. Elliott was always so proper that the nervous laugh made him seem – adorable? Sebastian didn’t know what other word to use.

“Yeah, she’s pretty generous,” he managed, taking another sip. He didn’t want to mention how Elliott had drained about half of the glass. The alcohol was starting to make his chest feel warm. “Thank you for the drink, by the way,” he said. “You really didn’t have to –”

Elliott made a noise in his throat, shaking his head and waving a finger. “No, sir,” he said. “I most certainly did have to.” He smiled. “I owe you much more than a drink, at any rate. I owe you…” he closed his eyes, his head suddenly lolling forward. Some of his hair came over his shoulders. “I think… perhaps mixing wine and liquor was not the wisest idea I have ever had,” he said.

Sebastian felt a sudden pang of guilt. He put his glass down on the table. “Yoba, Elliott, are you okay?” he asked. “Do you need me to –” he glanced over to the bar. Harvey was gone. No doubt he and Becca were already halfway back to her place. In fact, most everybody was gone. Apart from Pierre and Pam and Clint, the place had cleared out.

“No, no, I’ll… I’ll be fine,” Elliott said. He opened his eyes and managed a smile, though Sebastian could see how hazy his gaze was. “But you might have to finish this off for me.” He slid the glass across the table. “Please,” he said. “I want to make sure you enjoy your night.”

Elliott wasn’t completely making sense. Sebastian hesitated to reach out and take the glass from him. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

“I feel marvelous. Just a little dizzy, is all,” Elliott reassured him. He inched the glass closer. “Please,” he said.

Sebastian reached across and put his hand around the stem of the glass. His fingers brushed against Elliott’s as he did so and he felt an intense spike of emotion in his chest. Elliott withdrew his hand and leaned back against the seat. Sebastian took the glass and lifted it. He could see Elliott’s lip prints on one side of the glass. _It would almost be like kissing him._ He tried to shove the thought back down into the recesses of himself and instead brought the other side of the glass to his lips, drinking down the remnants of Elliott’s manhattan in one gulp.

Elliott looked impressed. “You can hold your liquor,” he said.

“One of the things I got from my dad,” Sebastian said without thinking. He cursed himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth and felt a sudden urge to bite clean through his tongue so he wouldn’t say anything else stupid. Instead, he picked up his own glass and drained it, quickly. He would be feeling the effects of a strong drink and a half before too long. Not as much as Elliott was feeling his own drink, Sebastian knew that. But enough where his walk home would be a little longer than usual.

He looked across the table to where Elliott sat, seeming to consider him. Both were silent for a long moment. “I truly don’t know much about you,” Elliott finally admitted. “But I’d like to find out.”

Sebastian’s heart was pounding so hard in his ears that he almost couldn’t make out the noise of the jukebox. “I… I’d like…” he began.

The lights in the saloon flickered off and back on twice. Sebastian glanced over to where Gus was removing his hand from the light switch. Last call. Damn the timing.

“Ah,” Elliott said, reaching for his pocket. After a couple of attempts, he managed to pull his wallet out. “What a pity. I would very much like to sit here with you for another few hours. Or longer.” He fished out a few bills, furrowing his brow as he glanced at them. “Yes, that’s enough. And a tip, Emily’s been very nice.” He placed another bill on top and looked to Sebastian with a smile. “I suppose that’s my cue to stumble my way home,” he said.

“Do you need any help getting there?” Sebastian asked, hoping the eagerness in his voice wasn’t suspicious.

“I think I should be fine,” Elliott said, sidling out of the booth. He stood up and took a few steps before stumbling sideways. “Oh. Or not,” he said, gripping onto the side of the booth.

Sebastian quickly got up and put his arm around Elliott’s shoulders. “Here,” he said. “Let me at least help you back to your place.”

Elliott turned to him with a look of such gratitude it almost made Sebastian’s heart break. “You’re very kind,” he said, leaning into Sebastian’s arm. “I do appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem,” Sebastian said, walking slowly with Elliott toward the door. Thankfully, nobody seemed to be paying the two of them much mind. He reached out and opened the saloon door, helping Elliott out into the center of town. It was late. Even later than when he had made his way down to the beach on Wednesday night. Had that really only been two days ago? Sebastian could hardly believe it. Almost as much as he couldn’t believe how his stomach was doing flips and his heart was pounding at feeling Elliott so close to him.

 _What is he doing to me?_ Sebastian forced himself to focus on getting Elliott safely through town. The last thing he wanted was for Elliott to fall and hurt himself on the cobblestones of the plaza. He weighed the pros and cons of trying to guide a very drunk Elliott through the trees and bushes that weren’t far from the saloon. _No. He can hardly walk straight._ He’d just have to take things slowly, guiding Elliott on the more indirect but steady route.

“… very embarrassing,” Elliott said. Sebastian realized Elliott had been talking for a small bit, but thankfully he didn’t seem to realize how far away Sebastian’s mind was.

“It’s okay,” Sebastian said, trying to reassure him.

“I wish it were,” Elliott said, sighing. “I do wish that.” 

Sebastian guided Elliott over the bridge that crossed the river. “We’re almost there,” he said, helping Elliott down the steps leading to the beach. “See? There’s your house.”

“My shack, my castle,” Elliott sighed happily. “I should be able to get there from here.” Elliott extracted himself from Sebastian’s arms and almost immediately stumbled as they reached the sand. Sebastian quickly reached out his hands to help steady him. He brought one arm around Elliott’s side and put the other hand on his shoulder. Elliott let out a sound halfway between a giggle and a snort.

“You’ll – oh, Yoba, you’ll have to excuse me for how bloody ungentlemanly this all is,” he said, the giggles starting to take over. He leaned against Sebastian and brought his mouth up to Sebastian’s ear. In a conspiratorial whisper, he said, “You see, I am _very_ fucking wasted.”

Sebastian wasn’t sure if it was more shocking to hear Elliott drop an F-bomb or to hear him describe his state as being wasted. Just as he wasn’t sure if the shiver running up his spine was from Elliott whispering into his ear or the closeness of his body. Either way, a peal of nervous laughter escaped him. “It’s – it’s fine, dude,” he said, guiding Elliott over to the cabin. “We’ve all been there.”

“But I shouldn’t be,” Elliott sighed. He reached out as they neared the cabin to steady himself against the door. Sebastian withdrew his hands but still watched carefully to make sure Elliott was stable. Elliott looked over at him. “I should be… I need to be a gentleman. That’s what I should be.” When Sebastian looked up at Elliott’s face, he could see the haziness in his eyes. Behind that, though, he could spot something else – Elliott looked remorseful. Sebastian knew Elliott wasn’t someone who regularly got smashed, like Shane or Pam. Even when he was tipsy, he still always seemed proper.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sebastian said, putting a reassuring hand on Elliott’s shoulder. “Nobody thinks any worse of you. You’re celebrating. It’s not like you do this every night. You’ve got a lot to be proud of. You’re a great writer and you’re going to put together an amazing book.”

Elliott’s eyes softened and he reached over, placing a hand on Sebastian’s face. “You are so kind to me,” he said. His voice still slurred a bit, but Sebastian could tell Elliott had reached the level of sincerity only the truly drunk could attain.

“Come on, I’m not that nice,” Sebastian said, feeling vaguely uncomfortable. _I jerked off to you. I sniffed your sweatshirt. I’m not nice, Elliott._ “You’re the one who’s been really nice to me. I was a total asshole to you and you…”

And then Elliott moved in and kissed his cheek. Just once, not too long, but definitely not a quick peck. As Elliott pressed his lips against his cheek, Sebastian felt lightning shoot out through his body and he took in a quick, sharp breath. He turned to look at Elliott, who was only a few inches from his mouth.

 _Please. Please kiss me again. If you kiss me, I’ll do anything for you._ The thought came unbidden, but once it was there, Sebastian felt like his entire body was concentrated on it. He could hear his pulse pound in his ears.

Elliott’s fingers stroked Sebastian’s cheek softly. “My handsome muse,” he murmured. Sebastian could feel the heat of his breath and could smell the wine and bourbon on it. It wasn’t unpleasant. “I would be completely lost without you,” Elliott managed to get out. “You’re so beautiful.”

“I’m not,” Sebastian mumbled, though the compliment made his heart pound.

“You are,” Elliott said, voice still quiet. Sebastian half-expected him to start waxing rhapsodic about how the moonlight complimented his ghostly pallor or some shit like that. But words seemed to be failing Elliott as they stood together, just outside his door. His eyes scanned over Sebastian’s face in a way that made Sebastian feel lightheaded. He had never had anyone look at him the way Elliott was looking at him now. “You are so very beautiful.”

“Yeah, you must be drunk,” Sebastian said, and instantly regretted it as Elliott groaned.

“That’s right,” he said, leaning his head back against the side of his cabin and closing his eyes. “I am… _very_ drunk. And I am making a right ass of myself.”

“No, I…” Sebastian cut himself off. Nothing good could come of him trying to tell Elliott that now. Elliott _was_ drunk, and Sebastian didn’t know how much of this Elliott was going to remember in the morning. He sighed. “Let’s get you inside, okay?”

Elliott managed a nod and fumbled for the doorknob. After a couple of tries, he landed his hand on it and turned it, opening the door a little faster than he needed. He staggered inside and turned the light on, wincing at the sudden brightness.

“Oh. Oh, dear. No, that won’t do,” he said, flicking the light off. He looked over to Sebastian. “I would offer you a nightcap, but I’m afraid the cupboard is a bit bare.”

“S’okay,” Sebastian said. “I should – I need to get home anyway.” His heart kept pounding in his ears.

Elliott nodded. “Yes, you – you’re a growing boy, and you need sleep.” He turned and almost lost his balance. Sebastian quickly moved to his side.

“Here. I’ll at least get you into bed,” he said. He moved Elliott through the darkened room, praying Elliott wasn’t going to get handsy. _Please. Please don’t tempt me._ After a couple of tries, he managed to get Elliott to sit down on the bed.

“Okay,” Sebastian said, moving to unsnap Elliott’s jacket. “Let’s get this off of you and –”

“No!” Sebastian jerked backward at the force of Elliott’s voice and the note of desperation in it. Elliott seemed to catch himself. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quieter. “I’m sorry, I – I can manage. Thank you. You’ve been very kind.” Sebastian noticed how Elliott drew his coat a little closer around himself.

“Okay,” Sebastian said slowly, rising and trying to push back the sudden panic that had risen when Elliott had spoken so sharply. “That’s okay. Um…” He tried to think about what he could do. “Here,” he said, moving over to the kitchen. The moonlight from outside was enough to let him see where he was going. He could feel Elliott’s eyes on him as he pulled a glass out of the cabinet and turned the water on. His eyes furrowed at how long it took the glass to fill. _Water pressure’s terrible. Maybe I should tell mom. She could help fix that._

Once the glass was nearly full, Sebastian turned the water off and moved back to the bedside, handing it to Elliott. “Drink this,” he said. “You’re going to be stupid hungover in the morning. This should help.”

Elliott brought the glass to his mouth and began drinking. Though it was slow at first, he didn’t pause, eventually draining the entire glass. He let out a long breath of relief when he finished. “Thank you. I did need that,” he said.

“No problem,” Sebastian said, taking the glass. He set it on the bedside table next to Elliott and knelt next to the bed. “Is there, um… anything else I can do for you?”

Elliott looked at him in the darkness. Sebastian could feel his heart pounding against his rib cage. For a long moment, their eyes met. Sebastian didn’t know if he desperately wanted Elliott to say something or desperately wanted him to stay quiet.

“You’ve done more than enough, thank you,” Elliott finally got out. “More than I deserve. I should…” he collapsed sideways onto the bed, a moan escaping his lips. “I do wish the room would stop spinning.”

Sebastian picked up Elliott’s legs and moved them carefully onto the bed. He noticed Elliott made a small wince as he did so. _His head must be hurting already._ “All right, I’m going to go,” he said, standing. “Good night, Elliott.”

“Good night, Sebastian,” Elliott said, lifting his head. “Thank you. Thank you for…” he trailed off.

Sebastian managed to give him a smile before he turned to move to the door. He paused in the doorframe and turned back to look at Elliott. The room was dark enough where he couldn’t make out Elliott’s expression from where he stood. He closed the door behind himself, making sure the latch caught.

And then Sebastian turned and slid down the exterior of the cabin until he was in the sand, legs splayed underneath himself. He put his hands to his face, letting out a long, shuddering groan.

_This is definitely gonna be fucking trouble._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My decision that Elliott suffers from eczema stems from my own battle with the disease. I thankfully don’t have as severe a case as Elliott does, but even a moderate case can be very embarrassing and physically painful. Having a skin condition can do a real number on your self-esteem, especially when you are trying to date. And speaking of self-esteem, poor Sebastian is starting to learn it can be super awful to catch feelings this hard and this fast. How will these two manage to navigate their growing relationship, and what repercussions will it have on their other relationships in town?
> 
> Next time: Eggs! And feelings! And late-night writing sessions! But most importantly, eggs! Thank you all so, so much for reading and leaving comments and kudos. I’ve been incredibly pleased with how much you’re responding to the story so far and I would absolutely love to hear your thoughts about how it’s going. Thank you again, and I’ll see you next week, guys!


	4. Scrambled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I listened to while writing this chapter was “Lake Erie Rainfall” by Jim Brickman, found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PqtIK53i5C4).
> 
> This song will be played by a character during this chapter. To listen along as it is being played by one of the characters, click the link and press play when you get to the following one line paragraph:
> 
> And he began to play.

“Probably one of the most private things in the world is an egg until it’s broken.”  
-M.F.K. Fisher

Elliott couldn’t remember the last time his eyelids hurt. His eyes, certainly. Every time he’d sit at his computer into the wee hours of morning, the bright artificial light shining brighter than any other source of light in his tiny shack, his eyes would hurt terribly and he would have the creeping dread that he was getting one day closer to needing glasses. But his _eyelids_ , that was another experience altogether. His eyeballs felt like round razor blades as he blearily opened them, cringing at the light streaming in through the windows.

He rolled over in bed and instantly regretted it, as the ache in his head moved from a thrum to feeling as though someone were playing it like a set of bongo drums.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, shutting his eyes and putting his palms against them. He let out a long, low groan. He’d been hungover before, of course. But not in a few years. Even when he’d been a grad student, he’d only rarely drank to excess, Leah’s protests to the contrary. But he hadn’t been able to afford an excess amount of wine in a long while. Certainly not since a couple of months after he’d moved to Pelican Town. But last night…

Elliott’s brow furrowed as he tried to remember the details of the evening prior. He’d gone to the Stardrop and ended up back here. That, he was sure of. And Leah – bless Leah, she’d bought him his own bottle of wine. That had to be it. Except there was something else. He was almost sure of it, but his head hurt so much. He couldn’t remember.

He slowly pushed up from the mattress, regretting it instantly. He cracked his eyes open ever so slightly, trying not to let too much light in. He was still dressed in his full attire. No wonder he wasn’t feeling cold this morning. He was lucky to have stumbled home. _Unless Leah…_ No. She would have made sure he at least got undressed for bed.

Elliott stood, groaning and rubbing his temples. _Oh, that hurts._ He was never going to drink again. That was what he was going to do. He was going to drink water and decaffeinated tea and nothing else for the rest of his life. No matter how much he felt like celebrating. Unless he could get a sports drink. That would give him electrolytes. _I don’t have a sports drink. I’ll have to go to Pierre’s._ No. Pierre didn’t have any refrigerated drinks. _Bollocks. JojaMart._ Elliott hadn’t shopped at a JojaMart since a couple of weeks after he’d moved to Ferngill. There hadn’t been any JojaMarts back in Pangolais. They’d had their own supermarkets, but they were nothing like JojaMarts.

Elliott had been delighted at how cheap the food at JojaMart was. He was able to get a month’s worth of food for what he’d budgeted for two weeks. But then the stomachaches had started. He thought it was just adjusting to a new place, perhaps the water or air in Zuzu City or the stress of his program. But they’d gotten worse and worse and worse. And then one day he had been almost unable to get out of bed. He had never felt so sick in his entire life. When he finally managed to get someone to help him to the student health center, he’d been hospitalized almost immediately. He was suffering from malnutrition. Despite eating three meals a day, the food and drink from JojaMart was so completely devoid of nutrients that it had almost killed him.

No. He was not going to give Joja any more money. Or time. When he and James had started dating, he’d tried, gently, bringing up the concerns he had about Joja’s food. James had chuckled. “You’re just spoiled coming from overseas,” he had said. “People who grew up in Ferngill are completely used to it by now.”

The more he thought back on it, the more he should have seen the warning signs that James wasn’t as friendly or supportive as he appeared at first blush. _No wonder he thrived at that place._ Elliott shook his head. Water. That would help his tongue stop feeling like sandpaper. He turned and furrowed his brow as he saw the empty glass sitting on the bedstand. He never kept a glass of water by the bed. _Did I just bring it there and forget about it?_ No, if he’d been desperate for water, he would have sat on the floor in the kitchen and filled glass after glass.

And then Elliott remembered. His eyes went wide and he sat back down on the bed, putting his hands to his head and letting out a long, deep moan. “No. No. Oh, no,” he murmured. _Sebastian._ Sebastian had helped him home the night before. He’d helped Elliott into his room, had gotten him water. _What did I say to him? What did I_ do _to him?_ Elliott felt creeping dread seep into him. He had bought Sebastian a drink. And he’d had one with him. That was why he felt so sick this morning. This wasn’t a wine hangover. He could handle those with a couple of aspirin and a healthy breakfast. This was the sort of awful headache he got on the rare occasions where he mixed what he was drinking.

“No. No, please,” Elliott said, his voice barely audible. “Please no.” What could he have possibly said when Sebastian was helping him home last night? It had been so long since he was that drunk, and drunk Elliott had a tendency to be a bit more… _forthcoming_ than sober Elliott did. Had he said anything that would have made Sebastian uncomfortable?

His hands shook as he held them against his head. _No, please. Please._ He had just made a friend in Sebastian. Sebastian was his muse – he was helping Elliott so much. And now he might have… Elliott groaned. He had been very poorly behaved when he’d drunk too much back in his program. He’d lost a few friendships over how obnoxious he had been, how he had blurted out things told to him in confidence. It had shamed him enough to cut down dramatically on his drinking. He was grateful for that by the time he graduated. Not only had he avoided the alcohol-induced burnout some of the other members of his cohort had succumbed to, but he also was able to keep hold of his tongue when he was out with James’s dreadful friends from work. The ones who hadn’t read anything but their social media feeds in years. The ones who spoke so harshly about the less fortunate. As though they weren’t just a few paychecks away from homelessness themselves.

But last night… Elliott groaned and dropped his head back to the mattress. He lay sideways on his bed, his hangover now playing second fiddle to the ache in his chest and his bones. He should have tempered himself. He should have only accepted a glass or two, not drank the _entire bloody bottle._ And Leah hadn’t been there at the end to kick him into place. What had he said to Sebastian?

_Please. Please don’t let me have told him that._

He couldn’t bear the thought of having spilled his feelings to Sebastian. How he had lain in bed the last two nights, thinking about how wonderful it would be to have Sebastian curled up next to him, gently stroking Sebastian’s hair, feeling his face tucked into the crook of Elliott’s neck. In his meanderings, Sebastian would be kind. He would be gentle. He wouldn’t care about how hideous Elliott’s skin was. He would apply soft kisses to Elliott’s face and lips, gently running his fingertips across Elliott’s shoulders and down his arms. Even, very slightly, over his chest. Over the worst of it.

Elliott’s stomach tightened and he curled up into a ball. It was a curse that he loved to be touched in the places where his skin was the harshest and the most painful to feel. Not now, of course, not when it cracked and bled so easily and the slightest sensation made him wince, but when it was healing, the feeling of a lover’s fingers and hands over his chest and stomach made Elliott absolutely melt.

But now he might never know that. If he had been so blatant, if he’d made a pass at Sebastian – Elliott shuddered at the thought. He could very well have ruined his friendship with Sebastian. Even if he hadn’t, the knowledge that Sebastian had seen him _that_ drunk, _that_ bothersome made shame wash over him like high tide. 

_I’m a disgrace._

Elliott felt heat stinging at his eyes. He bit his lip and curled himself in tighter. His parents had tried so hard to raise him right, to teach him how to act, how to behave, how to be proper. _“It’s the one way you’ll rise above your circumstances,”_ his mother had always said. They’d worked so hard. He had never appreciated how hard they worked and how much they sacrificed for him until he was on his own.

_If they could see me now, they’d be so disappointed._

It was a good thing his parents were back in Pangolais. That they didn’t have the means to travel to see him much. If they saw where he was living, the conditions that he was in, how he’d gotten so thin and had to make decisions about which meal he would cut out of the day – usually lunch, it was easiest to go hungry at midday if he knew he could have dinner – just to make ends meet. And for what? For a book that might not even happen now.

Elliott sniffled and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. He was ashamed of himself. He was living in squalor, stretching his last bits of gold far thinner than he should. Suffering from a debilitating skin disease that he could have had under control if he’d swallowed his pride and married James and gotten a quiet desk job at Joja and kept his health insurance. All of this for a vain attempt that he’d failed at so many times already. He tried shutting his eyes tight, but it only made the tears leak out more. Everyone would be so disappointed in him if they could see him now. His parents, James, Leah, Harvey.

And Sebastian. Sebastian had to be so incredibly disappointed in him. Elliott turned and buried his face in his pillow, his shoulders shaking.

It scared him how much he craved Sebastian’s presence. How his touch, his voice, the beauty and unsureness in his hazel eyes all made Elliott feel as though his heart would stop. He hadn’t felt this way in – well, in years, truly. It hadn’t been this way with James, or with Harvey. Even though he was happy, in a way, with James, and he knew he would have been very happy with Harvey. Sebastian was just so different from anyone Elliott had ever met. He carried himself differently. He spoke differently, with a halting cadence that somehow made his words seem so important because he worked so hard at getting them out. And the way he made Elliott feel was so different.

 _I’m pathetic. Here having a meltdown over a straight man nearly a decade younger than me._ But the more Elliott thought about Sebastian, the more it felt like his heart might crumble into sand.

It was nearly half an hour before Elliott could bring himself to push up from his place on the bed. He felt sick. The headache and nausea of the hangover lingered. And now his chest ached from the shame and fear that had taken root inside.

_I have to get some water. I’m so dehydrated._

He reluctantly picked up the glass and padded into the kitchen. It took nearly half a minute to fill the glass. As he drank, it felt like the water was washing away the rust and tarnish that had settled over his organs. He couldn’t stop. He tilted the glass back, desperate to get as much water into himself as he could and not caring that it was spilling over the sides of the glass and running down his cheeks and neck.

As soon as Elliott finished the glass, he hurriedly turned the tap on to fill it again. The process was maddeningly slow. _These pipes must be about as old as Pelican Town._ When he got a mostly full glass again, he brought it to his lips, a slight moan settling in his chest as he took more of the water into himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this thirsty. He swallowed gulp after gulp as though he had spent the last month crawling through the Calico Desert. When he finished, he set the glass down and turned the tap on, lowering his head to drink directly from the flow.

 _If James could see me now._ The thought, bitter and hard, settled into him. No doubt James had woken this morning, luxuriating in his expensive sheets and curled up next to whichever sweet young thing he’d decided on after Elliott had left. It was Saturday. Saturdays were days for brunch. For soft, fluffy waffles and fresh-squeezed juice that always tasted so much better than what came out of a carton. An afternoon spent at the movies or the botanic gardens. An evening of dancing or dining or cocktails.

From the outside, his life had seemed so good when he was with James. He had been lucky, he knew, to find someone to support him while he was in school. He had been lucky to find someone to put up with his quirks and his accent and his ridiculous goals.

James had certainly implied that, anyway.

Elliott finally drew his head back from the water faucet and sat down hard on the floor of the kitchen. His breath came slow and deep as the water settled in his stomach. James would have been appalled to see how he lived now. Elliott could almost see the curl of the lip and hear the noise of distaste that started in James’s throat and moved up into his nose before being exhaled. It was the way he reacted when anything wasn’t up to his standards. The same way he had reacted when Elliott had moved in and unpacked most of his clothes, the ones that he had brought with him from Pangolais. The ones he wore in the day-to-day. Nothing like his nicest attire, which he had worn whenever he and James had gone out.

_“Ell, darling, I always thought you were, well, slumming it. Not that those were your best clothes.”_

The words had stung. Those had been his _things._ The things he had worn, that in many cases he had bought with his own money. Most of them were only a few years old. But James had taken him on a whirlwind shopping spree, bestowing finery on him and dropping his old things off at a donation center for the less fortunate.

_“You see? Your things go to someone who needs them and you’re befrocked in something that suits you. Those things… didn’t.”_

Elliott had been overwhelmed, both at the generosity and the quickness of how his entire wardrobe had changed overnight. It wasn’t until he had related the episode to Leah and seen the look of creeping horror on her face that the depth of the insult truly struck him.

Those things didn’t suit him. _His_ things. The clothes he had worn from home, the ones that had memories. The t-shirt he’d purchased at his first concert, the scarf his parents had bought him one Feast of the Winter Star in his favorite colors – burgundy and green. Yes, they had been a little threadbare in some instances. Certainly, he wouldn’t wear them out to dinner with James’s friends or family. But they had been _his._

James had remade him in the image he wanted. It was only the first time in their relationship that he did so.

Elliott closed his eyes tightly. No. He was not going to sit here on the floor and wallow in despair. He had ruined things with Sebastian, that might be so, but it didn’t mean he had to give in to the thoughts that were creeping up now.

_If you give up, it’ll just prove James right._

The thought made him open his eyes and rise, wincing slightly at the throbbing pain in his head. He needed a shower. He needed some painkillers.

And then he needed to get to work.

_I am not giving up._

~~~

Sebastian was in a foul mood as he skulked through Pelican Town. It was Saturday. Saturdays were rehearsal days. Normally he looked forward to getting together with Sam and Abby and practicing. Especially with their show in Zuzu City coming up.

But it had been a week since he had taken Elliott home from the saloon. When he’d gotten home that night, he had barely been able to breathe. He made his way downstairs and pressed his entire face into Elliott’s sweatshirt. Taking in Elliott’s scent made him as lightheaded as ever and let him relive the moment Elliott had kissed his cheek, the words he had spoken. He had fallen asleep feeling soft and warm all through his chest. As though there was a possibility that what he longed for so intently, what he barely dared admit even to himself, might happen.

And then, silence. It was the next day that he realized he didn’t have Elliott’s number. And he didn’t really know how to go about asking anyone for it. He found it hard to come up with a reason to stop by Elliott’s house. The one day he’d seen him shopping in Pierre’s, Elliott had such a strange expression on his face. He’d bought his groceries and hurried out before Sebastian could even talk to him. 

The night before had been Friday. Elliott hadn’t been at the saloon. Sam hadn’t stopped crowing all night about how he’d finally beaten Sebastian at a game of pool. But Sebastian couldn’t focus. The angles were all off. Every time he tried to hit the ball and get it where it needed to go, it ricocheted far from where he intended it. Abby had looked worried, but he could tell she didn’t know what to say.

He’d left early. Much earlier than usual. He went home and threw Elliott’s sweatshirt and pajama bottoms in a paper bag from Pierre’s. Later that night, long after anyone would have been awake, Sebastian moved quietly through town and dropped the bag and Elliott’s umbrella off at his door. He’d walked home. And then, for the first time in a week and a half, he was completely unable to fall asleep.

He pointedly ignored any quiet greetings from anyone in town. He kept his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground as he moved to Sam’s place. Banging on the keyboard would make him feel a little better. It wouldn’t make the knot in his stomach untie itself, but it might loosen it a bit. If he could just avoid Sam and Abby asking him what was wrong. He knew he was on the verge of snapping at the first person who asked him how he was.

Sebastian reached the Fischer house and drew his hand back, knocking a few times in succession. Mrs. Fischer was a nice lady, but she hated when you barged in without knocking. And he hated making Mrs. Fischer upset. She never yelled or scolded, she just got that sad, tired look in her eyes.

Sebastian’s eyes were on the welcome mat when the door opened. He looked up and almost fell backward. The man standing there had blond hair the same shade as Sam’s. It was closely shaved on the sides and in a flattop. He looked out at Sebastian a little suspiciously before his posture relaxed.

“Mr. Fischer?” Sebastian asked, stupidly, he knew. “You’re – Sam didn’t tell me you were back!” He moved forward and put his arms around Kent Fischer, hugging him tightly. After a moment, Kent brought his arms up and patted Sebastian’s back.

“Hi, Seb,” he said, voice quieter than Sebastian was used to. “Good to see you.” Sebastian pulled back and looked up at Kent’s face. His eyes didn’t look the same as they had before he left. Sebastian knew Kent had been through a lot while fighting overseas. The newspapers and TV always vacillated on whether to call this the Third Gotoran War or to say it was the same conflict, that the brief cease-fires hadn’t counted. Whatever the case, Ferngill and Gotoro had been at war for nearly twenty years. It wasn’t the first time Kent had gone to fight at the front, but Sebastian knew from what little Sam had been willing to tell him, this time had definitely been the worst. When Kent had been captured and was being held in a Gotoro prisoner camp, everyone in town had rallied around the Fischers. Lewis had called the governor, who had personally intervened and spoken with the Gotoran forces. It was an intense three months, but Kent had finally been released back into Ferngill custody shortly before the new year.

Looking up at Kent’s eyes, Sebastian felt the knot in his stomach tighten further. Kent was always the fun dad. Compared with Pierre and Demetrius, he was hog-wild, even though he still ensured the kids would show respect, not just to him, but to all the adults in Pelican Town. He was the one who always took Sam and Abby and Seb to the beach or to the Grampleton Fair. He would always allow Sam to have friends over and took pride in cooking dinner or taking them out for burgers and shakes. He would rent any movie they wanted. He’d talk to Sebastian like he was a grown-up, and he always made sure Sebastian felt safe, that he felt at home.

Sebastian remembered when he was fourteen and Abby and Sam had wanted to rent that awful movie about the old priest and the young priest ridding the young possessed girl of a demon. Jodi had excused herself to her room early, laughing about how she wasn’t going to go through the trauma of watching it again. Sebastian had made it about twenty minutes in before he started whimpering and had to cover his face. Kent told Sam and Abby to keep watching the movie and took Sebastian in the kitchen. He made him a cup of hot chocolate and sat there with him.

“It’s okay to be scared, Seb. It’s just a movie. Honestly, I find it kind of scary, too,” he’d told Sebastian. Then he’d given him a hug. Rubbed his back. Told him, “It’s okay, buddy. I’m here.” Sebastian had still been small that year. It wasn’t until the end of freshman year that he got his growth spurt – if you could call going from five-three to five-seven a growth spurt – and he had felt so safe in Kent’s arms. The quiet reassurances and comfort were more than he knew he would have gotten from Demetrius. Or his own father.

After Kent had been captured, Sebastian hadn’t been able to sleep for nearly a week. He felt like a zombie. He stopped accepting work. He couldn’t think or focus. Thank Yoba Emily had come back from the desert the week before and he’d stocked up. Without the pot, he wouldn’t have been able to get through. He was practically vibrating with worry.

And now, seeing the look in Kent’s eyes, Sebastian knew he was right to worry. Kent’s eyes were those of a different man. He was haunted by what he’d seen. Sebastian hardly knew what to say in response. Eventually, he cleared his throat and managed to get out, “I’m… I’m really glad you’re home.”

The small smile Kent gave at that let Sebastian know that for once, he’d managed not to completely fuck up social niceties. “Thank you, Seb,” he said. He let out a breath. “I think I’m going to head out while you all practice. I’ll… see you around.” He stepped past Sebastian and began walking down the road away from his house. Sebastian watched as he went. Even his posture was stooped, slouched like he had never been before. Kent had always been so proud of his service, of fighting to protect Ferngill. Things were different now. Sebastian had heard and read about the Gotoro prison camps. His stomach clenched to think of what Kent had gone through.

But there was nothing he could do or say right now. Maybe after Kent had been home for a bit, Sebastian could try to talk to him, to tell him how much everyone had been worried for him, how they had all tried to help where they could.

Maybe.

He stepped inside and wiped his feet on the mat. From the sound of guitar chords, Sam was already warming up. He made his way to Sam’s room and opened the door without knocking. Sam was sitting on his bed, practicing a few chords. He looked up and smiled, though the smile dropped quickly when he saw the look on Sebastian’s face.

“What’s up?” he asked, setting the guitar down.

Sebastian took in and let out a long breath. “You didn’t tell me your dad was back,” he said. “How long’s he been home?”

“Since Tuesday,” Sam said. He swallowed. “He – I wanted to go tell everybody, but he asked me not to make a big deal about it. I mean, you saw him. He’s… he’s not the same. He won’t talk about it.”

Sebastian closed his eyes. “I wanted to…” he trailed off. He didn’t know what to say. _I wanted to welcome him home. I wanted to tell him how much I missed him._ Whatever he could say sounded stupid. Kent was Sam’s dad, not his. He shook his head. “Sorry.” He moved over to sit behind the keyboard. “We just doing the run-through today?”

“Yeah, once Abby gets here,” Sam said. He looked at Sebastian closely. “You okay? You look stressed.”

“M’fine,” Sebastian said, flipping through the small notepad on his stand. The set list that the three of them had been negotiating and arguing about for weeks was here, at least in its most recent form. “Just… a lot going on.” He didn’t like lying to Sam. Sam was his best friend. But how could he even tell him about what he’d been going through?

_Yeah, I’m fine except I’ve been jerking off to Elliott for a week and smelling his sweatshirt that he let me borrow when I went down to the beach and stood out there in the rain like a fucking idiot. And now he’s not talking to me and I’m feeling like a teenage girl whose boyfriend is giving her the silent treatment. Oh, also, I might be gay. Crazy, right?_

“Okay,” Sam said in that tone of voice he always got when he wanted Sebastian to know that he was fully aware of how much shit Sebastian was full of but wasn’t going to press it. He looked down at the set list. “You given any more thought to taking lead on a song?”

“Ugh,” Sebastian said, cringing. “You know I hate singing in front of people.”

“You’d really be giving me a break,” Sam said, looking back at him. “It’s hard to sing for forty minutes straight. And I’d just need it for one song.”

“We can’t just do an instrumental version? Or a cover of something? Or you couldn’t ask Abby?” Sebastian asked.

Sam gave him a pointed look at the last suggestion. “You’ve got to be desperate if you’re suggesting having her sing,” he said. Nobody was able to explain how Abigail was such a talented flautist and a great drummer and yet her singing sounded like someone hitting a baby with a cat.

“I’ll think about it,” Sebastian said, avoiding Sam’s eyes. Both he and Sam knew that was a no, but they also both knew how much Sebastian hated saying no to Sam. Or to Abby. He always felt like if he said he didn’t want to do something that they wanted to do, they’d stop wanting to be friends with him.

Both boys looked up as Abigail entered, smiling nervously. “Okay, so good news and bad news,” she said.

“What’s the bad news?” Sebastian asked, already dreading what she was going to say.

“Midterms are the week after next and mom is really getting on my ass about studying,” Abigail said. “So she doesn’t want me rehearsing next week. I think if it wasn’t for the Egg Festival on Friday, she’d probably lock me in my room and send food up twice a day with a pulley.”

“The show’s the week after!” Sam groaned. “Next Saturday’s supposed to be our last rehearsal!”

Abigail held up her hand. “But,” she said. “But, but, but. I pitched a major hissy fit and got her to agree that if I aced my midterms, she and dad would pay for the bus to take us to Zuzu and back. And that means we can take pretty much anybody from town who wants to come and buy a ticket to the show.”

Sebastian and Sam were quiet for a moment, exchanging a glance.

“I mean, that sounds like a pretty good tradeoff to me,” Sebastian said. “We’ve been practicing this shit for months. We’re not going to get any better at it.”

“That… yeah, that could work,” Sam said. Sebastian could tell he still wasn’t happy that their last practice was going to get canceled. He looked up at Abigail. “You’re going to study your ass off, right?”

“Please,” Abigail said, tossing her hair as she moved over to the drums. “I’m taking all core classes this semester. Three of them are freshman level. I could sleepwalk my way to an A. But yes, _mom,_ I’m going to study.” She picked up her drumsticks and sat down. “So, from the top?” she asked.

“Let’s do it,” Sebastian said, turning the keyboard on. 

~~~

One of the stranger curiosities of Pelican Town was the annual Egg Festival. Elliott had been completely flummoxed by it the prior year, unable to understand what garlands and fruit punch and hunting colored eggs had to do with the first festival of the year, the festival celebrating spring. Over the course of the festival, various members of the town had explained it to him. Demetrius enlightened him to the origins in pagan celebrations of spring. Marnie told him how eggs were chosen as celebration and representation of the new life that spring brought. Evelyn told him how the festival had changed ever so slightly over the years, but how the core parts were still the same.

And Elliott had been enchanted. Sitting at one of the long tables, enjoying punch and ham and eggs and greens, he’d feasted for the first time after the long winter. Later, watching the children and some of the younger adults in town rushing around hunting for eggs, he had felt part of the community for the first time since moving to Pelican Town. A warmth settled into his chest, a sense of belonging.

When he went home after his first Egg Festival, he deleted the first chapters of the novel he had been working on about the small town that lulled people into a false sense of security before sacrificing them to its strange pagan god.

Now attending his second Egg Festival, Elliott was able to see the same things that had so befuddled him the year before: the table groaning with Gus’s food and the eggs that Marnie and Shane’s hens had worked overtime on. The children, chasing each other around with wicker baskets that they were preparing to use for their egg hunt. Pam, ever-so-discretely tippling a clear liquid into the punch bowl.

Elliott found himself scanning the grounds. Part of him wanted desperately to see Sebastian. The other part was still burning with shame over his behavior the night Sebastian had escorted him home. It was this latter part that had caused him to flee Pierre’s when he ran into Sebastian. The prior week, when he’d awoken to find the bag outside his door with his clothes inside and his umbrella propped next to it, his heart had sunk. He genuinely didn’t know what to do, or to say.

He ended up accepting a plate from Gus and filling it up with a few slices of ham, some devilled eggs, a generous helping of a green salad, and then taking a glass of punch from Pam, who winked. Elliott took a seat near Penny, who gave him a kind smile.

“Are you enjoying the festival?” she asked him. Elliott noticed that she was avoiding drinking the punch – a simple glass of milk was behind her plate.

“Very much so,” he said. “I could completely lose myself in all the glories of the celebration. It’s so invigorating to see all of this after winter passes.”

Penny smiled. “I agree,” she said, taking a bite of scalloped potatoes and chewing carefully. After she swallowed, she said, “Jas and Vincent have been looking forward to the egg hunt for weeks.” She sighed a bit. “Every year I hope that Abigail and her friends will go easy on them. They’re always so disappointed when they don’t win.”

“Well, they’re getting older each year,” Elliott said. “Before long, Jas and Vincent will be moving faster than the others and then they’ll be the ones running roughshod.”

Penny chuckled. “I certainly hope they don’t do so at school,” she said. “They’re quite a handful as it is.”

Elliott smiled. Penny was one of the kindest people in town. Everything about her was soft – her voice, her smile, the pale yellow sweaters she seemed to wear in all but the hottest weather. When Elliott had first moved to Pelican Town, Penny had shyly approached him to let him know how much she was looking forward to reading his book. They had spent an entire afternoon in the library, comparing some of their favorites. Elliott had lent a few books out to Penny, each of which came back a few days later along with a thrilled review. She seemed to love reading as much as anyone Elliott had ever encountered.

Over their meal, Penny and Elliott conversed pleasantly, about books they had recently read, about their plans for the spring, about how lovely of a day it was. While Elliott wouldn’t count Penny as close of a friend as Harvey or Leah, he did greatly enjoy spending time with her. She was always calm, always kind. 

As he chewed on the last bite of his ham, Elliott gathered his courage to ask Penny what he had hoped to speak with her about. He knew that people took advantage of her good nature. She was always getting roped into helping with things. He would have to word this carefully. He didn’t want to take advantage of her, but she truly was the best one who he could ask for help.

“My dear, I was wondering if I might encroach on you for some help with something,” Elliott said. “I’d be willing to pay you – I can’t afford much, I’m afraid, but I wouldn’t need too much of your time.”

“If I can help, I’d be happy to. What is it you need help with?” Penny asked.

“Well,” Elliott said. He glanced around to make sure none of the gossips were nearby, before lowering his voice. “My book is nearing completion,” he said.

Penny let out an excited gasp and clapped her hands. “That’s wonderful, Elliott!” she said. When she saw a few people glance over at their table, she sheepishly lowered her voice. “But what would you like me to do?”

“I have to admit, I’m not very skilled at proofreading my own work,” Elliott said. “And this has been… a bit of a quick process. I’ve written nine chapters in the span of a little more than a week. I probably only have another four or so to go. If I send you the files, would you be able to mark them up for me? I could either pay you by the page or by the hour, whatever you’d prefer.”

“Yes! Yes, absolutely,” Penny said. She impulsively threw her arms around Elliott, hugging him tightly. Elliott smiled and hugged her back.

“You are an absolute lifesaver, Penny,” Elliott said. “You’re a treasure. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

“And I can’t tell you how excited I am to read it!” Penny said. “You can send me what you have and I’ll get started on it. I’m sure by the time I finish, you’ll have more chapters for me to work on.”

“Marvelous. You are a jewel. You are an absolute dream,” Elliott said. Penny giggled, but the grin on her face threatened to split it in two. And then across the way, Elliott spotted Sebastian. He was slouched under one of the trees. He glanced at Elliott with a pointed look. Elliott felt a sudden, hot flush of shame and turned his attention back down to his plate.

~~~

Sebastian leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes. The egg hunt, even if it was the loudest part of the festival, was one of the few times to give him any actual peace. Abby always participated. She had ever since they were kids and never missed a year. Last year, when Becca had won, was the first time in probably ten or twelve years that Abby hadn’t won the egg hunt. Sam would take part, too, though Sebastian knew he usually managed to help Vincent out by leading him to the eggs. Maru was the only other adult to take part, which meant mom and Demetrius would be there cheering her on.

So Sebastian could just sit and enjoy the quiet. Nobody talking to him. Nobody bothering him. He had tried to catch Elliott’s attention a few times, only to have Elliott look like he was turning away. Sebastian could see the look of discomfort on the writer’s face. His stomach had been hurting ever since. He’d hardly said anything to Sam and Abby. Not like he could get a word in edgewise with how Abby was planning the route she was going to take. He knew she spent the first half of the festival scanning the roped-off portion of the square and looking for any eggs. Once they pulled down the ropes and Lewis gave the signal to go, she was off like a shot.

Sebastian felt in his pocket. His cigarettes were in there. So was a joint. He could really use the smoothing out of his nerves right now. His entire body felt staticky. It was a discomforting feeling. He felt sharp, like he was all edges and bone fragments and broken glass inside. But he knew if he lit up, somebody would complain about the smell and then Lewis would rain holy hell down on him and he’d end up doing community service.

_Maybe I’ll go down to the beach after._

But if he went to the beach, he’d probably run into Elliott. Sebastian felt the knot in his stomach tighten. He forced himself to take in and let out a few shallow breaths, trying to get the knot to loosen. It didn’t help that he’d hardly eaten anything. He hated eggs. He always just ended up picking at some of the sides. This year he’d gotten a slice of ham and some rolls and vegetables. But the rest, as always, was just fucking eggs. The only ones he could handle were the chocolate eggs for dessert.

Sebastian pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He shook one out and fumbled for his lighter. And then a shadow fell across him. He looked up.

Elliott. The writer stood near Sebastian, hands clasped together. Looking… he didn’t know. Sebastian couldn’t tell what the expression on his face was.

“You here to tell me I’m killing myself with these?” he asked, voice flat.

A small look of worry crossed Elliott’s face. “No,” he said quietly. “You’re an adult, you can make your own choices.”

Sebastian shrugged, pleasantly surprised. He placed the cigarette between his lips and flicked the lighter. Once he had the cigarette lit and took in the first drag, he put the lighter back in his pocket and took the cigarette between his fingers, letting out a long breath of smoke. “What, then?” he asked.

Elliott cleared his throat. “I was hoping I might speak with you. Perhaps now, while everyone is watching the hunt?” he asked.

Sebastian shrugged. “It’s a free country. Until Gotoro invades, anyway,” he said, scooting over slightly.

Elliott managed a wan smile and took a seat near Sebastian. He looked down at the ground and pursed his lips. “I… wished to apologize,” he said. “For the night you brought me back to my home from the saloon. I fear I don’t recall much of what transpired.” When he looked up, Sebastian could see the shame in Elliott’s eyes. “It was very poor form of me to drink so much. And if I said or did anything to make you uncomfortable, I want you to know how deeply sorry I am.”

Sebastian felt the knot in his stomach loosen, just slightly. He brought the cigarette back to his mouth and took a long drag. The nicotine was helping, though the irritation still chewed at him. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me all day? Why you’ve been avoiding me for two weeks?” he asked, unable to keep the bite out of his voice.

Elliott lowered his head again. “I’m so sorry,” he said, voice quiet once more. “I’ve been – I’ve dreaded having to face my own bad behavior. I should have apologized to you the very next day. I –” he bit his lip. Finally, he looked up. “I’m sorry, Sebastian,” he said. “I’m sorry for whatever I might have said or done. I’ve agonized over it. I only recall a few things, moments here and there. And I’m sorry that I haven’t come to speak with you before this. I was ashamed.”

The pain in Elliott’s expression and voice thawed Sebastian’s cold anger. He let out a sigh and leaned forward, shoulders hunched. “You don’t have anything to apologize for the night I brought you home,” he said.

Elliott was quiet for a moment. “I didn’t do anything untoward?” he asked, a small note of hope in his voice.

Sebastian replayed the moment in his mind that he had relived more times over the last two weeks than he could count. The feeling of Elliott putting his hand on the back of Sebastian’s head. The lean in. The press of the lips against his cheek. The way his heart had pounded and his blood coursed and his head felt dizzy. And the words Elliott had murmured to him.

_“I would be completely lost without you. You’re so beautiful. You are. You are so very beautiful.”_

“No, you didn’t,” Sebastian said. He looked up at Elliott. “You were a little giggly. I didn’t take you for much of a giggler.”

Elliott flushed slightly, but relief began to creep into his eyes. “It happens on occasion,” he admitted. He was quiet for a moment. “You have no idea how relieved I am,” he finally said, letting out a nervous laugh. “I’ve thought that you might hate me if I said or did something awful.” He swallowed and let out a shuddering breath before he met Sebastian’s gaze.

“In that case, the only thing I have to apologize for is not coming to speak with you,” he said. He reached over and placed a hand on Sebastian’s. The second their skin touched, Sebastian’s heart began pounding so hard in his chest he thought Elliott must be able to hear. It was all he could do to keep the neutral expression on his face.

Elliott looked Sebastian in the eyes and said, “I am so very, deeply sorry. This is not how friends act. I should have… I should have swallowed my fear and pushed my cowardice aside and come to speak with you as soon as my head stopped hurting. I apologize, Sebastian. You were very kind to take me home and make sure I was safe, and I’ve been awful not to bite the bullet and just talk to you before now.”

Sebastian could hear the words. They entered his consciousness and seemed to circle around him. But his entire being was focused on the feeling of Elliott’s hand on his. The way his fingers and palm felt so soft. So much softer than Sebastian’s own hands. He might not have been tall or buff, but he could use his hands. Now, though, he was conscious of how callused and rough they must feel. Elliott was so gentle – his hair, his clothes, his skin, his voice, his smile. Everything about him felt comfortable. Somehow it didn’t make Sebastian’s own sharpness feel all the worse – it blunted it.

Eventually, Sebastian let out a small breath and said, “If you ever feel like that in the future, please just talk to me.” He hated the pleading note in his voice. But the words were pressing against his mouth. “I don’t have a lot of friends, Elliott. And it hurts when one of them isn’t talking to me.”

Elliott looked as though Sebastian had stabbed him through the heart. His eyes turned downward and he squeezed Sebastian’s hand again. “I am so sorry,” he said again. “You don’t have to forgive me, but I promise I won’t do this again. Your friendship is precious to me. As are you.” Sebastian’s heart spasmed as Elliott spoke those words. He turned his hand slightly so that he and Elliott were practically holding hands. The intimacy of the gesture made him feel like he might pass out. He squeezed Elliott’s hand and Elliott looked up, managing a small smile.

“Then I guess we’ve got a couple weeks’ worth of stuff to catch up on,” Sebastian said. His anger had melted away, again, at Elliott’s touch. Something about Elliott made it impossible for him to be angry. No, not that – Elliott made it impossible for him to _stay_ angry. Elliott’s presence was like the reverse of a hornet’s sting. It was sudden and cooling and soothing. And it made his heart feel like it would explode from pumping so fast.

“I suppose we do,” Elliott said, the smile coming back to his face. “Has there been anything terribly exciting that I’ve missed?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sebastian said, voice dry. He took a drag off the cigarette. “Twelve days of me sitting in my room coding and two days of the band practicing. The party never stops.”

Elliott chuckled. “I don’t think I ever asked what you play,” he said.

“Keyboard,” Sebastian said. “Mom made me take piano lessons when I was a kid. Some of it stuck.”

“Really?” Elliott asked, smiling. “I play piano a bit myself. Only by ear. I never learned to read music.”

“So that big thing in your cabin isn’t just for show?” Sebastian asked, turning to look at Elliott fully for the first time.

“It came with the cabin, if you can believe that,” Elliott said. “It’s horribly out of tune, but I can still manage a bit.”

“Everything in your place is out of tune,” Sebastian said. The words weren’t as sharp as they could have been. “The water pressure’s terrible, the stove barely works. I don’t know how you’ve managed to live there.”

Elliott pressed his lips together and folded his hands. “I couldn’t afford anything else,” he admitted. “Even here in Pelican Town, where everything’s much cheaper than the city. It was the only building I could afford for two years.”

Sebastian furrowed his brows. “Why two years? You’re not moving, are you?” he asked. A slight hint of dread crept up through him.

“That was the advance for my book,” Elliott said. “They gave me two years to write it. If I don’t finish the book, I have to return the money. Which is almost all spent. I had to use it to live off of while I wrote it. If I fail…” he shrugged. “It’ll be bankruptcy, probably. I won’t be able to pay it back.”

Sebastian’s frown deepened. “Yeah, but…” he paused.

“But what?” Elliott asked.

“Couldn’t you just… I don’t know, ask your parents to help you or something?” Sebastian asked.

Elliott stared at Sebastian for a long moment. Sebastian couldn’t make out the expression on his face. At last, Elliott turned and looked down at his hands. Quietly, almost so quietly Sebastian couldn’t hear, he said simply, “That isn’t an option.”

Sebastian could have kicked himself in the head. He was digging up something that was uncomfortable for Elliott. He needed to change the topic. He stood and held out a hand for Elliott, who looked up at him with surprise.

“Come on,” Sebastian said. “I’ll tune your piano.”

Elliott blinked. “I beg your pardon?” he asked.

“I can’t fix your pipes or your stove, but I know how to get your piano in tune,” Sebastian said. “Come on. I’m tired of this crowd. I want to get out of here.”

Elliott cautiously reached up and took Sebastian’s hand. Sebastian helped him off the ground and started walking toward the south end of Pelican Town. Elliott followed, just a step and a half behind. “Won’t your family want to walk home together?” he asked.

Sebastian snorted. “No,” he said, voice dripping with disdain. “No, they will not want to _walk home together._ What fifties sitcom did you waltz out of?”

Elliott looked a little stung and paused as they reached the bridge leading to the beach. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

Sebastian sighed and came to a stop. He turned around and looked at Elliott. “No. _I’m_ sorry,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I know you don’t mean anything by it. It’s just… I’m the odd one out. Mom and Maru and Demetrius, they… they get along. They do things together. They watch TV, they all have their projects. They don’t need me there.”

“I’m certain that isn’t true,” Elliott said. He took a step closer. With Sebastian a few steps up on the bridge incline, their height was nearly equal. “Your mother seems very proud of you.”

“If she is, that’s news to me,” Sebastian said. His stomach was starting to hurt again. He turned and began walking a little faster than before. He could hear Elliott’s footsteps behind him, but thankfully Elliott seemed to have dropped it.

Though he preferred it at night, the beach always gave Sebastian a sense of calm. Even now, with the late afternoon sun shining brightly and making his eyes squint. The sound of the gulls calling, the lapping of the waves, the scent of the salt air. If it wasn’t for the damn sun, he probably would want to live down by the beach.

He stopped outside of Elliott’s cabin. He’d been here more in the last two weeks than in his entire life prior. This close to being alone with Elliott again, away from prying eyes, Sebastian felt a flutter in his stomach. His thoughts drifted, wondering if Elliott would take the initiative this time. If he would press Sebastian against the wall of the cabin, peppering him with kisses, rubbing him between his legs and feeling his excitement grow. Sebastian’s mouth felt dry. He didn’t dare admit how desperately he wanted that.

“Here we are,” Elliott said from directly next to him. Sebastian somehow managed not to startle and looked up. Elliott was turning the knob and holding the door for him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, stepping inside. He kicked off his shoes, not wanting to track sand into Elliott’s cabin. He moved over to the piano, stopping near it to run his hand over the top. Despite its age, it was a well-made instrument. He could tell the craftsmanship and love that went into it weren’t the sort of things you’d see in something mass-produced. His eye scanned the outside of the piano, looking for a logo. There was none.

“I think this is a custom piece,” he said, turning back to Elliott. “Probably whoever built this cabin either made it or had it made.”

Elliott smiled. “Then I’m glad it’s still getting some use.” He paused. “Could I get you some tea? Or anything else to drink while you work?”

“I’m fine,” Sebastian said, reaching onto his belt and pulling off the small set of tools he kept there. “I had two glasses of punch. One before Pam got there and one after.”

Elliott lips curled up slightly, but his mind couldn’t help resting on Penny. How she was the only adult giving the punch bowl a wide berth. “Do you mind if I watch you work?” he asked.

“Knock yourself out,” Sebastian said, lifting the top and grimacing at the sight of the corrosion inside. None of the strings seemed to be damaged, but the inside of the piano had definitely seen better days. “Don’t get too attached to this thing,” he said, pressing middle C. He winced at how out of tune it was. “If you breathe on it too hard, it’ll probably fall apart.”

Elliott took a seat at his desk, leaning on his elbow as he watched Sebastian. “I hope it won’t,” he said. “A lot of what’s in this place is made well. It just needs to be treated gently. It needs to be loved. If you’re careful with things, they last.”

Sebastian grunted a response as he set to work tuning the piano. He hadn’t done this in a number of years, not since the piano at Stardew Valley High needed a tuner but the school board hadn’t been willing to pony up the money to bring a tuner out from Zuzu City. He’d negotiated spending his gym period for a week working on tuning the piano. It kept him out of the locker room, away from the laughter and the taunts. Away from the stares at how short and small and scrawny he was.

Sebastian reached over and turned on the light switch near the piano. The lights came on and illuminated the inside better. He took a pair of pliers and began to carefully adjust the string for middle C. If he could get this one in tune, he’d know about what he needed to do to the rest of the strings. Of course an actual tuner would do the job better, but Elliott wasn’t exactly paying him.

Elliott watched carefully as Sebastian worked. Every so often, he reached down and hit a key, checking to see how it sounded. The rest of the time, he crouched over the internal workings of the piano, using whatever tools he had at his disposal to get the piano sounding better. Elliott was fascinated by how people could know to do these things. He’d always been hopeless at fixing anything, ever since he was little. The few times his father had tried to get him out to help with the car, Elliott had genuinely tried. And genuinely failed. 

It was probably when he was seven or so that he had dropped a pan of oil his father had been changing and it spilled all over the garage floor. He’d been reduced to tears. He felt useless when he couldn’t manage something like this, something his father made look so easy. But Michael Rourke was not an unkind man. After he’d pulled a few rags out and soaked up the oil, he had pulled Elliott onto his lap, smiling at him.

_“Don’t be upset, lad,” he’d told Elliott. “It’s an accident. You don’t have to be brilliant with cars. You’re brilliant with a lot of other things.”_

Elliott knew he had been fortunate to have loving parents, who supported him in pursuing his dream. He missed them terribly. He hadn’t seen them since they’d flown to Ferngill for his graduation from Zuzu State. _If I finish this bloody book, the first thing I’ll do is give them a vacation. They deserve one._

It made him sad to hear that Sebastian didn’t have a good relationship with his family. He wondered how much of it was Sebastian’s own thoughts and how much was what Elliott didn’t see. Robin had always been kind when he’d talked to her. And Maru was a gem. Demetrius, Elliott admittedly didn’t know well, and he’d seemed the sort of academic that Elliott shied away from: the one who was brilliant but couldn’t – or wouldn’t – explain his research.

And then there was Sebastian himself. Sebastian was quiet, and there was an anger in him, but not the kind of anger that would make Elliott afraid to be around him. Sebastian’s anger seemed to have a root of sadness, of self-loathing at its core. Sebastian never seemed to believe anything he did was worthwhile. Even as he was able to do things Elliott would have struggled to even understand the basics of.

Elliott watched as Sebastian furrowed his brow again, trying to wrangle a particularly difficult D note. _Yoba, he is so handsome._ Elliott had never felt something for someone so much younger than him. All his relationships, even one-night stands, had been with older men. Harvey was five years older than him. James had been nearly twelve years older. And now Sebastian, who was probably only a year or two into his twenties, was making Elliott think impure thoughts.

 _I’m revolting. He should be with someone his own age._ Elliott bit the inside of his cheek, trying to banish the mental image of him and Sebastian being tangled in one another, seeking warmth and comfort in each other’s bodies. _He’s being kind and helping me out, and I’m thinking about how much I want to ravage him. I’m awful._

“Okay,” Sebastian said, nodding as he continued working. “I think the worst of it’s over. Just a matter of tightening the rest of the strings up. Should only be another fifteen minutes or so.”

“You’re very kind,” Elliott said, smiling at him.

Sebastian could feel the flush of blood up the back of his neck. “Not really,” he protested weakly. To avoid looking at Elliott too much, he turned his attention back to the strings, moving down to the lesser-used keys. He wanted to do a good job. He wanted to do something nice for Elliott. But there was a creeping feeling of pleasure he got of having Elliott watch him work. Most of what he did was alone, on his computer. People didn’t tend to watch him as he did things. It was nice. Being near Elliott, having him watch Sebastian work, was… nice. It made him feel good.

Sebastian finished tuning the last key and closed the lid of the piano. He ran his fingers quickly over each of the eighty-eight keys, nodding and smiling when he reached the last. He turned to Elliott and said, “That’s all done.”

“You’re wonderful,” Elliott said. He smiled and stood. “I feel terrible that you’ve spent that much time working on this, but it was fascinating to watch you. Is there… anything I can do for you? Any payment you’d accept?”

Sebastian tamped down the cheesy porno pickup lines that rumbled through him. _I want you so bad._ But that wouldn’t be right. He wasn’t going to ask that. His gaze moved back to the piano, then up to Elliott. “How about you play something for me?” he asked.

Elliott’s smile widened. “I’d be delighted,” he said, moving over to the bench and taking a seat. He looked up at Sebastian and patted the bench next to him. Sebastian’s heart pounded in his chest as he moved over to sit next to Elliott.

“Let’s see,” Elliott said, placing his hands on the keys. He ran through a couple of scales and let out a small noise of satisfaction. “Oh, yes, that’s _much_ better,” he said. “You did a wonderful job, thank you.”

The proximity to Elliott, how tight their sitting side-by-side on the bench was, the warmth coming from him, and Sebastian’s own thoughts were all making him feel more intoxicated than the punch had. “What are you going to play?” he asked.

Elliott considered. After a moment, he nodded and placed his hands a couple of octaves apart. “This is a song I learned to play when I was a teenager,” he said. “It’s not the most complicated one, but it is very beautiful.” He turned to Sebastian, that same small smile on his face. “I hope you enjoy.”

And he began to play.

At first, only his right hand moved, hitting a series of notes in the high range that almost sounded like the hint of rainfall. Then it moved an octave or so lower, imitating but not mirroring the pattern of the higher notes. Sebastian glanced to Elliott’s hands, then up at his face. Elliott was watching the keys carefully, a slight furrow to his brow. When Sebastian had first learned the piano, his teacher, a sour-faced woman who came to the school twice a week, had barked at him about how he should look at the music, not the keys.

If she could hear Elliott play, no doubt it would have shut her up.

Elliott tilted his head slightly to the right as he adjusted his pose and started to use his left hand to play a deeper harmony. The quiet notes his right hand was playing seemed to echo in the resonance of the deeper, lower ones of his left. And then, like magic, the two parts converged into a single song. Sebastian felt a slight chill of excitement run through him. Whoever had written this had done so masterfully – Elliott had claimed it wasn’t complicated, but that belied how much the two halves of the song relied on each other, cautiously edging forward as they engaged in a slow, beautiful dance.

Sebastian found himself closing his eyes, imagining the times he had gone up to the mountain lake and listened to the rain falling on it. How he’d sit under a tree and quietly smoke, completely content in the loneliness and the peace. Elliott’s playing was bringing that feeling back, especially as the chords from his left hand got slightly louder – not loud enough to be cacophonous but showing more power and framing the delicate notes his right hand continued to emit.

Sebastian wondered if the song might actually lull him to sleep. When Elliott stopped playing with his left hand and moved back to the crystalline chords of his right, mirroring the opening bars of the song, he felt as though he could nod off entirely. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so comfortable. It took a moment for him to realize that the notes had faded into quiet. It took a moment longer for him to realize he was leaning against Elliott. The soft sensation of Elliott’s coat and the scent – _Yoba, there it is again_ – were making him feel almost dizzy.

And then Elliott put an arm around him and pulled him in closer. Sebastian’s blood felt like it might explode from his veins. Elliott cradled him gently with his left arm, stroking at his neck with his thumb. Sebastian couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes. He felt safe. He felt like nothing could hurt him.

When Elliott spoke, his voice was as soft and warm as the coat Sebastian was leaning against. “I hope you’re looking like that because you liked the song, not because it put you to sleep,” he said, a tone of mirth in his voice.

“That…” Sebastian could hear the rawness in his voice. Elliott seemed to realize it at the same time.

“Are you all right?” he asked. Sebastian’s eyes were still closed, but he could practically see the concerned expression on Elliott’s face.

Sebastian opened his eyes and looked up to Elliott. He couldn’t even get the words out. He could feel his lips parting, but he had no idea what to say. His brain felt like it couldn’t grasp onto any words adequate enough to tell Elliott what he was going through.

“Sebastian?” Elliott asked, his voice and face more deeply concerned. “Sebastian, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Sebastian finally managed to get out. He closed his eyes and rested his head against Elliott’s shoulder. He brought his arms up, slowly encircling them around Elliott. “Nothing’s wrong. It just… I feel so good.”

Elliott let out a long, relieved breath and brought his other arm around Sebastian. As he did so, he could feel a slight shiver run through Sebastian. Elliott began to gently rub Sebastian’s back and he rested his head against Sebastian’s. “Are you talking about the song, or what you’re feeling now?” he asked.

“Both. I… both,” Sebastian said. “It was so peaceful and… you feel so good.” He tightened his arms, trying to pull Elliott closer to himself.

Elliott brought his other hand up, stroking Sebastian’s hair gently. “Have you ever done this before? Just… been held by a friend?” he asked. Sebastian shook his head. Elliott let out a small breath.

“You should have,” he said, voice quiet. “Touch is so important. We need touch. We need to _be_ touched. It’s healthy. It’s good for the body and the spirit.” He gently pressed his lips against the crown of Sebastian’s head.

Sebastian felt like he might melt into nothingness. His mind was racing but his body felt like it did the time he’d had his tonsils out and had to undergo anesthesia. Everything felt soft and heavy and warm. He didn’t know what to say.

And then as he leaned forward, his hip almost slipped off the bench. He grabbed at Elliott out of instinct, but Elliott’s arms were around him.

“It’s all right. I’ve got you.” Elliott’s voice was so calm, so soothing. Sebastian nuzzled his face against Elliott, but the near fall had spooked him.

“I don’t think the bench is big enough for this,” he mumbled into Elliott’s chest.

Elliott chuckled. “You’re probably right about that.” He gazed over his meager belongings in the shack. “But I think the only place big enough for us to lie down would be the bed. Are you comfortable with that?”

Sebastian nodded, hoping he didn’t seem too eager. His heart began pounding at the thought of lying down in Elliott’s bed with him. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Elliott gently extracted himself from Sebastian’s grip and helped him up off the bench. Sebastian hardly registered how Elliott took his hand and gently led him over to the bed. Elliott took a moment to pull off his long coat and hang it over one of the nearby chairs before he crawled into the bed, lying on top of the sheets. He turned and looked at Sebastian.

“Get comfortable, whatever feels most comfortable to you,” he said. Sebastian felt like he was sleepwalking as he moved onto the bed, lying down so he was facing Elliott. He suddenly felt shy, as though this were the first time he was seeing Elliott at all.

Elliott smiled at him and brought a hand up, gently stroking his face. “Do you want to just come next to me like you were before, or have your back against me? What would feel good?”

 _Being next to you._ Sebastian wordlessly moved forward until his chest was against Elliott’s. He slid an arm around Elliott’s side and closed his eyes, resting his head on the pillow. As Elliott brought his arms around Sebastian and tucked him in closely, Sebastian let out a small, shuddering breath.

“I wish this weren’t so new to you,” Elliott said quietly, stroking Sebastian’s hair again. “It’s so important to be touched, to feel the touch of another. Everyone should be able to just curl up next to someone else and be held.” He kissed Sebastian’s forehead.

Sebastian was aware of what Elliott was saying. The words were registering. But responding was impossible. He felt wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and safety. Breathing in the smell of Elliott’s cologne and shampoo, feeling Elliott’s arms around him, hearing Elliott’s soft voice, being able to relax. Endorphins surged through Sebastian, lulling him into a quiet haze of bliss. He could never remember feeling safer. He could never remember feeling like he belonged anywhere more than this.

Sebastian floated in the haze for a long while. And then, suddenly, he squinted his eyes open. Elliott was still there. He smiled at Sebastian, chuckling gently. From the windows, Sebastian could tell it was later. There was only a hint of dusk coming in from outside.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to sleep through until morning,” Elliott said.

Sebastian could feel the slight stickiness from drool at the corner of his mouth and he brought a hand up, wiping at his mouth with embarrassment. “How long was I out?” he asked.

“An hour and a half, two hours, somewhere in there,” Elliott said. “I was talking to you and then I realized you were asleep. I didn’t want to move and disturb you. You seemed like you needed the sleep.”

Sebastian suddenly became aware of how entangled he actually was with Elliott. He had shifted his trunk while he slept so that his stomach and chest were pressed completely against Elliott’s. His arms were around Elliott and his legs were twisted and entangled in the other man’s. And then, to his horror, Sebastian realized he was hard and pressing against Elliott. Every muscle in his body tensed and the knot in his stomach pulled tighter than he could ever remember it feeling.

“Fuck. Fuck, Elliott, I’m sorry.” He pulled his hips back, untangling his legs and trying to get away. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He could hear the threat of tears in his voice as much as he could feel them stinging at his eyes. This was so humiliating. Elliott had to be disgusted. As proper as he was, this was just…

“It’s all right,” Elliott said. He put a hand on Sebastian’s face. “Sebastian, it’s fine. It’s all right. It happens when we sleep. I’m not upset. I’m not angry.” He stroked Sebastian’s cheek with his thumb. “I’m glad you felt safe enough with me to fall asleep.”

As Elliott reassured him, Sebastian could feel the knot slowly loosen. He had no idea why Elliott was so nice to him. Without even thinking, he blurted out, “I don’t want you to go.”

“What?” Elliott asked. “Go where?”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Sebastian said. He pulled his hands from his face and Elliott could see the turmoil on it. “If you don’t finish your book and you can’t afford to live here anymore, I – I don’t want you to have to…”

“Oh, darling,” Elliott said, chuckling warmly but pulling Sebastian back into a hug. “You’re so sweet. Don’t fret. I’ve still got about five months’ rent paid.” He rubbed Sebastian’s back. “And besides, I’ve been making good progress. I’ve written another eight chapters in the last couple of weeks.”

Sebastian pulled back and looked at Elliott. “You’re shitting me,” he said, voice flat. “When were you going to tell me that, you dick?”

Elliott laughed. “I was hoping for it to be a surprise,” he said. “That’s one of the reasons I haven’t been out and about much. I’m at a hundred and seventy pages. It’s not done yet, but I’m more than halfway there. I don’t have more than another four or five chapters left. And Penny’s going to help me with proofing the manuscript.”

Sebastian hugged Elliott tightly. “I’m really glad,” he said. “I mean – I’m glad because I know how much this means to you, but I’m also really glad you’re staying around.”

Elliott closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of Sebastian against himself. “I am as well,” he said. “I’ve… I always wanted to write, I always wanted to finish a book. So of course, I’m thrilled at my progress. But I’ve truly grown to love this place. I don’t want to leave it.”

Sebastian nuzzled his face against Elliott’s neck. _I don’t want you to leave. Please don’t leave me. I need you here._ He couldn’t bring himself to say the words aloud. But he couldn’t let them just lie here in silence. He cleared his throat. “Did you always know you were going to be a writer? Since you were a kid?” he asked.

Elliott smiled. “I wouldn’t say since I was a child, but since I was – oh, probably thirteen or fourteen, yes,” he said. “That was when I truly fell in love with telling stories.”

“So what did it?” Sebastian asked. He wasn’t expecting the – embarrassed? – chuckling that Elliott gave in response to the question.

“It’s not the most inspiring way anyone ever gained a love of the pen,” he admitted. “But it all started with a game called Solarian Chronicles.”

Sebastian sat straight up in the bed, looking down at Elliott. “No way,” he said. “You are not a chronicler. Sam and Becca and I play at least once a month!”

“I have been since first edition,” Elliott said, smiling. “I even bought the board game that came out a few years ago.”

Sebastian furrowed his brow. “What do you mean _even_ the board game?”

Elliott raised his brows. “You – oh, you haven’t played the role-playing game?” he asked. He sat up in bed. “One moment.” He moved over to his bookshelves and moved his hand over the books in the second row. He pulled a clearly well-read hardcover off the shelf and brought it back over to the bed, handing it to Sebastian.

Sebastian looked down at it. _Solarian Chronicles: Bring your adventure to life!_ He looked up. “I always thought the board game was… it,” he said.

“It’s a good introduction to the world of Solarian, but there’s a lot more that can be explored,” Elliott said, sitting next to Sebastian. He put an arm around Sebastian’s shoulders and reached down to flip the cover open and move past the first few pages. The feeling that coursed through him when Elliott touched him wasn’t fading, but Sebastian was becoming aware of how natural it felt. Elliott just… touched him. He didn’t hesitate. It was like Sebastian wasn’t a gross little goblin living in his mom’s basement. Elliott seemed to _want_ to touch him, to hold him, to give him the quiet signs of affection that Sebastian found himself craving and desperate for more of.

“Here,” Elliott said, stopping on the introduction. “This is where the real difference is. The board game gives you a character and you just move through the setting. But this game, it allows you to make your own character. To be whoever you want. To really bring that character to life.” He looked up at Sebastian and smiled. “My friends and I would play this, and I would usually end up being the one running the game. I’d come up with stories for them to explore and their characters would get more powerful and take on more and more responsibilities. And I loved it. I absolutely adored coming up with details and characters for them to encounter. It was where I really got the bug for telling stories.”

Sebastian found himself looking at the colorful artwork, of the characters who seemed to be living the stories that he’d found so compelling when he and Sam and Becca would sit down and move their pieces through the tiles the game set up, reading from the cards and having their choices impact what happened. But this seemed… more _alive_ somehow. He looked up at Elliott.

“I’ve never played a game like this,” he said. “It looks… cool.”

“Would you like to?” Elliott asked. “If the three of you enjoy the board game, you should really enjoy this. I could put a story together and run it for you.”

“Would you?” Sebastian asked. “That would – I’d love that. Abby probably would, too. She’s always wanted to be a warrior, but she says the board game’s too slow for her.”

“Four’s a good number,” Elliott said, smiling. “You can cover all your bases for your party with four players. All right, I’ll start putting something together. When would you like to play?”

“I mean… whenever, I guess,” Sebastian said. “I think it’s supposed to rain Sunday, so Becca should be free then.”

“Excellent!” Elliott said, smiling widely. “I’m excited for this, I haven’t had a chance to dust off my storytelling in a while. Would you all like to come here or…?”

“My room works,” Sebastian said, and almost instantly regretted it. He didn’t want Elliott running into mom or Maru or – Yoba forbid – Demetrius. But it was where he and Sam and Becca played. “I can get some snacks.”

“Lovely,” Elliott said. “We could say… noon? One? We’ll need about an hour for you to make your characters and then we can play. Probably about… six hours in total? And if you’re all having fun, we could make a regular game of it.”

“That would be awesome,” Sebastian said. He could feel the smile on his face. It had been a long time since he had looked forward to something like this. Even when he and Sam and Abby would get together it was usually just the same thing. Pool or rehearsal or pool or rehearsal or pool or…

Sebastian hadn’t had something new to look forward to in a long time. Except, perhaps, for the man sitting on the bed next to him.

It was only now that he realized how intimate their posture truly was. Sebastian was practically tucked into Elliott’s arms. He was leaning back against Elliott’s chest. Elliott was rubbing a hand gently up and down his arm. The familiarity, the comfort, and the intimacy made it feel just for a moment as though he and Elliott were lovers. _If I leaned back, would you kiss me? Would you whisper sweet things to me? Please don’t leave me. Please. I need you._

“So what do you usually play?” Elliott asked.

“Huh?” Sebastian asked. He had to think for a moment about what Elliott was talking about. “Oh, um, the board game? The wizard, usually.”

“Wizard, interesting,” Elliott said. “That’s a good choice, combining power and strategy. My first character was a magic caster.” He flipped to another section of the book. Sebastian recognized the artwork here – the game must have modeled the wizard piece off this art. His eyes swam looking at all of the details and numbers and charts on the page.

“Yoba, I hope you don’t expect me to memorize all of this,” he muttered. Elliott laughed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make copies of all the important things,” he said. “Gunther still has an aging copy machine in the library. And I’ll make some blank character sheets for all of you.” He smiled at Sebastian. “I really can’t wait for this, you know. You’ll have to excuse me if I’m fanboying a bit. I haven’t actually played this since I moved to Ferngill.”

Sebastian turned. “Wait, you’re – I thought you were from Zuzu City,” he said.

“I went to school at Zuzu State,” Elliott said. “I’m _from_ Pangolais. Where did you think the accent came from?”

Sebastian didn’t say anything, but the guilty look on his face told Elliott everything.

“You thought I was putting my accent on,” Elliott said, a slow grin sliding across his face.

“No! No, I… yeah, I totally did,” Sebastian said, lowering his head. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s just – you’re so polished and you’re always so put together. And I’ve never known anyone from Pangolais. I’ve just heard the accent in movies and on TV and stuff.”

“Well, I’m here and you know me,” Elliott said. A moment passed, during which Elliott’s gentle rubbing of Sebastian’s arm never stopped. “And I’m very glad to know you.”

Sebastian felt his throat get hot. He bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m… glad to know you, too,” he said. “You’re a good friend. And you –” he paused.

“Yes?” Elliott asked.

“You… care about me,” Sebastian said quietly. “You actually care if I’m okay. Even the night you came out to the pier with your umbrella. I’d never been nice to you, but you got up and came out in the rain and held your umbrella over my head because I was too fucking stubborn to listen to sense. And I don’t know why you’re nice to me.”

Elliott was quiet. At last, he said, “I’m nice to you because you deserve for someone to be nice to you. Because something makes you sad and angry and not like yourself. And I want you to know it’s okay to feel good. It’s okay for you to be happy. You deserve happiness.”

Sebastian felt the sting in his eyes again. “You must not know me very well,” he mumbled.

“See, that,” Elliott said, putting a finger under Sebastian’s chin and lifting it. Sebastian found himself lost in Elliott’s kind, warm eyes again. “That is the exact thing I am talking about,” Elliott continued. “You always look like you’re expecting cruelty. You say terrible things about yourself, things nobody should say about himself. You’re a good person. There’s a real kindness and gentleness in you. I’ve seen it. I wish you could see it, too.”

Sebastian brought his hand up and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. He sniffed once, willing himself not to cry in front of Elliott. The heat was spreading from his throat down into his chest. Or perhaps that was another heat entirely. Eventually, he quietly said, “Thanks, Elliott.”

“Of course,” Elliott said, pulling Sebastian into a hug. Sebastian found himself relaxing much easier than he had before. Elliott’s hugs just felt so _good._ “If you ever need to talk to someone, if you’re ever feeling down about yourself, come here. I’m here for you.”

Sebastian rested his head against Elliott’s chest. Somehow, he was starting to believe that. He didn’t know what made Elliott tick. He couldn’t figure him out. He didn’t act like anyone else Sebastian had ever met. And he knew that was making him trust Elliott much more than he had anyone in a long time. There were so many things he wanted to say. But he didn’t trust himself to speak those words.

So instead, he squeezed Elliott once more and reluctantly pulled back out of the hug, brushing away the stray hair that always seemed to fall over the right side of his face. “I should probably get home soon,” he said quietly. “It’s already getting dark.”

“Of course,” Elliott said, standing and helping Sebastian up from the bed. Elliott smiled down at him. “You have everything this time?”

Sebastian chuckled. “Keys, cigarettes, lighter, wallet, phone,” he said, pulling each out of his pocket. “I’m good.”

“Marvelous,” Elliott said. He moved with Sebastian over to the door. “So, Sunday at noon, I’ll be at your place. If you need to change that, just come by and let me know.”

“Or I could… let me get your number,” Sebastian said, pulling his phone back out. He opened a new contact, typed “Elliott” at the top and then handed it to Elliott.

“Ah, good idea,” Elliott said. He reached into his own pants pocket and pulled out a small flip phone, opening it and pulling up his own contacts. Sebastian had a look of disbelief on his face as Elliott handed it over. “You’re judging me, I can see,” Elliott said.

“I… are they even making phones like this anymore?” Sebastian asked.

“I got that phone when I moved abroad five years ago and it’s worked for me the entire time since then,” Elliott said, typing his number into Sebastian’s phone. He handed it back to Sebastian and took his own in return. “All right. Text or call me if anything changes. Otherwise, I’ll be there with bells on.”

“Thanks, Elliott,” Sebastian said. “Thanks for…” he trailed off. What could he possibly say? But Elliott seemed to understand what he meant. He placed a hand on Sebastian’s cheek and smiled down at him.

“You’re quite welcome,” Elliott said. “And if you need anything, call me. Or text me. Whatever you kids do on your mobiles.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Mobiles. You really are eight hundred years old,” he said, putting his phone away and shuffling his shoes on.

“Just remember this maxim when we’re playing,” Elliott said, opening the door for Sebastian. “Youth and inexperience never beat old age and treachery.”

“I like that,” Sebastian said, smiling. He bit his lip, looking up at Elliott. _I don’t want to go. I want to stay and have you take me to bed and do whatever you want to me. Please. Please ask me to stay._

But Elliott didn’t. He patted Sebastian’s shoulder and said, “Be safe on your walk. I’ll see you Sunday.”

“Right. Yeah,” Sebastian said. He swallowed. “See you Sunday.” He stepped out of Elliott’s cabin and started walking toward the stairs leading up from the beach.

Elliott watched him go. When Sebastian was out of eyesight, he closed the door and leaned against it hard, letting out a long breath.

“You beautiful siren,” he exhaled, sinking to the floor. He leaned his head back against the door, closing his eyes. _I could fall in love with you, Sebastian. And I will, if you’re not careful._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this version of _Stardew Valley_ , Pangolais is the equivalent of the United Kingdom, with a “classy” accent and aristocracy and obsession with drinking tea at all hours of the day. Elliott’s accent would be the equivalent of Upper Received Pronunciation – the poshest way of speaking the shared language, and one that might rub the earthier denizens of Ferngill the wrong way.
> 
> Next episode will start to feature some more of Sebastian’s relationships with his family and all that squishy discomfort, as well as lots of die-rolling and terrible accents and overly dramatic protestations. We’ll also finally get to see the mysterious farmer up close and personal!
> 
> Thank you all so, so much for the lovely, thoughtful feedback you’ve been giving me so far. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the comments and kudos – it’s really sustaining and encouraging, especially for a story with as long of chapters as this one has. I hope you liked this chapter and are enjoying where the story is going. See you next week, guys!


	5. Snake Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I listened to while writing this chapter was “Love for a Hero” by Kelly Andrew, found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KHyG_m1MPAY). The album this song comes from, _Epoch Dawn_ , is one of my favorites to play as background music when playing RPGs.

“Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory.”  
-J.R.R. Tolkien

It was well past dark by the time Sebastian made it home. His heart hadn’t stopped pounding the entire time. _Sunday_. Two days – well, more like a day and a half – and Elliott would be coming over to his house. It wasn’t the first time he wished he had a door or window from his room directly out of the house. So he wouldn’t have to deal with his family. He could just come and go. He could have people over without having to listen to mom and Demetrius and Maru making comments about his social life. They made comments when he had his friends over. They made comments when he _didn’t_ have his friends over. Always talking about him. He hated it. It made his stomach clench.

But Elliott was coming here. For the first time. They’d be together in his room. _I need to clean up. Vacuum, maybe spray some air freshener._ He didn’t want his room to smell like stale air and cigarettes and leftover coffee. He didn’t want Elliott thinking his room was as pathetic as it was. _I should wash my sheets. And I should…_ He shook his head. He needed to write down a list of stuff to do. And tomorrow, he could get it done.

He opened the front door, quietly moving through the entry room that doubled as mom’s business space. It was where she had samples of wood, designs, and did her consultations with anyone needing repairs or new buildings. Becca had been her best customer of late by far, but she also got orders from Lewis to make repairs to buildings around town. And the Mullners had recently hired her to make repairs to their roof.

All things considered, it could be a lot worse. They weren’t struggling like he knew some of the families in town were. They could keep shopping at Pierre’s instead of JojaMart. They had room in their budget for extras. If they wanted to eat a meal out at the saloon, they didn’t have to think about it. There were gifts every Feast of the Winter Star and birthday. 

It hadn’t always been that way. When they first moved to the valley, there were very lean times. Demetrius had to teach some classes at the community college in Grampleton, taking the train an hour and a half in each direction. Nobody had thought that a lady carpenter would be as talented as a man was.

Nobody except Farmer Hwang. Kyu Hwang. Becca’s grandfather. He’d hired Robin to build his greenhouse and his coop, and then he spread word around town about how hard she worked and how pleased he had been with the results. Sebastian remembered how generous Kyu had been with his time and his energy. How he’d always taken the time to give a gift to everyone in town on their birthday. How he’d paid for feasts and spent his days balancing taking care of his animals and crops with socializing and being a pillar of the community. If he’d wanted, he could have run against Lewis for mayor and probably gotten every vote in town.

It had been ten years now since Kyu had died. Heart disease. Cardiomegaly. His heart had been enlarged and it gave out one summer day when he was gathering corn. They’d managed to stabilize him at the clinic that Harvey now ran, but he only lasted through the night. He died just before dawn. Sebastian had only been thirteen at the time. But he remembered Lewis’s heartfelt speech at the memorial.

_“I suppose it’s fitting that Kyu died in the way he did. He had the biggest heart of anyone I ever knew. To know him was to love him. Pelican Town will never be the same without him here.”_

Lewis’s words had been prophetic. Without the crops and animal products from Amethyst Farm buoying the economy, cracks had started to show. Marnie’s ranch had played second fiddle to Kyu’s, but Marnie had liked it that way. She always enjoyed raising animals and being around them more than running a business. With the increase in demand, she struggled to keep up and became incredibly stressed. Shane’s arrival with Jas a few years later brought additional worries and Marnie now didn’t smile anywhere near as widely as she once had. The lack of business passing through made things leaner for Gus and Pierre as well, and when JojaMart opened their store, the amount of people buying fresh food and seeds from Pierre and prepared meals from Gus had gone down significantly. Both businesses showed wear and tear; they hadn’t asked Robin for repairs in a long time, clearly because keeping the doors open was far more important than keeping things structurally sound. Willy, too, had stopped spending so much time in Pelican Town. Now in winters, he’d shut the bait shop and go out to sea. When Sebastian had asked about it that first winter, Robin had hesitated before simply saying, “Willy and Farmer Kyu were very close. Very good friends. In winter there isn’t much else to do but think. And Willy would rather do that out on the sea than here in town.”

Without the farm running, everything in Pelican Town seemed to be spiraling into a painfully slow death, like a star caught in the orbit of a black hole. Sebastian could see acutely how much the people here had grown to hate their lives. The town events and gatherings never seemed to have as purpose for celebrating. Neighbors rarely greeted one another or sought to spend time together. Small cliques flourished. The gossips – Caroline, Jodi, Marnie, Emily – who worked out on Tuesdays and spent almost as much time running their mouths as they did exercising. Alex and Haley, the king and queen of Ferngill. The ones who never had anything bad happen in their entire lives. The drunks: Pam and Shane and Clint, who drowned their sorrows so they wouldn’t have to think about how miserable their lives were. Penny and Maru and Harvey, the do-gooders who were the only real hope anyone had for a long time. And him and Sam and Abby. The bad kids. The ones everyone watched out for. The ones who always ended up doing community service.

And then something happened.

There was a new farmer in town. Becca had arrived at the beginning of spring the year prior. She was thin, of average height, with long turquoise hair in a braid. Her hands were soft from years working at JojaCorp and those who remembered her from the times she’d visited her grandfather remembered a quiet girl, one who seemed very unsure of herself. Hiding behind her grandfather’s legs when he would take her to meet people. Certainly not one who would take over the family business.

But Becca _had_ taken over the family business. And like her grandfather before her, she had made herself a part of the community. She had a knack for figuring out what people liked and being able to provide it to them. She was a workhorse, up at dawn and rarely going to bed before ten, yet also managing to socialize and be around whenever anything was happening. She’d bridged gaps between the cliques. She knew how to get people laughing, get them commiserating. If someone posted a help wanted sign outside the general store, it was just about a guarantee that Becca would take care of it. She was like her grandfather in almost every way.

Almost every way. Kyu Hwang had been soft-spoken, as gentle with his words as he was weaning a newborn calf. And Becca’s vocabulary could make a drunken sailor turn scarlet. The roughness of her language belied her inner kindness and her ability to help people. She’d been Sebastian’s first new friend in a long, long time. And now he had another new friend. He had Elliott. And all of his friends were going to be coming over. Sam and Abby and Becca and Elliott. It would be the first time the five of them were together. The thought caused a slight rush of adrenaline through him. He was anxious. Well, he was _always_ anxious, but now he had something specific to be anxious about. But more than that, he was excited. This was going to be fun. It was going to be something new, maybe a regular thing. He could –

“Sebby?”

Sebastian’s heart almost stopped. His head whipped in the direction of the kitchen. Mom stood there, her hair loose around her shoulders and her robe on. She was filling a glass with water.

“I thought I heard you come in,” she said. “You slipped away at the end of the festival.”

Sebastian’s stomach clenched. _I can’t tell her. I can’t tell her I was with him. She’ll know._ He cleared his throat. “Yeah. I went… for a walk.”

Robin looked up at the clock on the microwave. 10:26. She glanced back at him. He braced himself. The questions were going to start, he just knew it.

“I’m just glad you’re home,” she said, though he could hear the concern in her voice. Had she seen him leave with Elliott? Fuck, everybody probably did. No doubt if Caroline had caught wind, she would have been right up in mom’s ear. _“Robin, what_ is _that son of yours doing with that Oscar Wilde knockoff? Hopefully they aren’t up to… well, you know.”_

Sebastian did not like Caroline. And the feeling, he knew, was completely mutual. She thought he was a bad influence on Abigail. She always had. And she took the opportunity to spread her _concerns_ to Robin every chance she got.

“Yeah,” he finally answered. He swallowed. “I’m gonna…” he paused. Now might be the best time, when mom was already tired. She rarely stayed up this late. “Actually, mom – I was going to have some friends over on Sunday. Maybe… four people or so. If that’s okay?”

Robin blinked. Sebastian knew she probably couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked her about having people over. Usually Sam and Abby just dropped by. And Becca was over at least a couple of times a week. Sebastian never announced that he was having people come by. “Well, of course,” she finally said, smiling. “What time? Do you want me to make you all lunch? Or dinner?”

Sebastian hesitated. Mom was a great cook – one of the best in town, truthfully. She could have held her own against Gus if there was a cooking competition. But if they had a meal, then he knew the questions would be there for Elliott about how he and Sebastian got to know each other. And Sebastian didn’t trust himself not to snap at mom or Demetrius or Maru over food.

“Around noon. Til about six or seven. And no, that’s too many for you to cook for,” he said. He did his best to avoid her eyes. “I’ll just get some snacks.”

“If you’re sure,” Robin said. “Are you guys playing music or video games?”

“No, we’re, uh…” He’d tried to explain the Solarian Chronicles board game to her when he got it. He had played board games with her and Maru and Demetrius back in the day, but mom didn’t care much for any game that was more complicated than Monopoly. “It’s like Solarian Chronicles, but… different. Same world, just a different approach to the game.”

Robin chuckled. “I’ll take your word for it,” she said. She drank the last of her water and emptied the glass in the sink. “Well, I hope you have fun, Sebby. And if you do want dinner…”

“I’ll let you know,” Sebastian said, turning to move down the stairs. As he neared the bottom of the stairs, he could hear mom from the kitchen.

“Good night.” There was a melancholy note in her voice. Sebastian felt his stomach twist again. He always felt guilty when he blew mom off. He knew she was trying. It just felt most times like they were speaking through a translator, like their languages didn’t mesh. At least she tried with him. Maru and Demetrius had their own language, their biology and chemistry and astronomy language that he never understood. It wasn’t that he disliked science. He got decent enough grades in his science classes in school. But this was a whole new level of nerding out that he just did not get.

Sebastian slipped inside his room and almost immediately moved to the bed, lying down. In the quiet and the dark, he could think. He didn’t feel like his brain was on overload. And so, he thought. He thought about the game coming up. He thought about how he was going to do this dance over the next couple of days, cleaning up and ignoring the comments from everybody. But mostly, he thought about Elliott. About the feeling of being tucked into Elliott’s arms, of feeling Elliott’s body pressed against his. The way he’d drifted off to sleep feeling so safe, letting Elliott’s voice and scent and touch make him feel completely secure.

Sebastian closed his eyes and gently ran a hand under his shirt, across his stomach. He shivered at the sensation. _I want you to touch me. I want you to feel me. Please. Please. I need you._ He lay quietly for a long while, keeping his eyes closed and slowly running his fingertips across his body, imagining it was a man with long auburn hair and the kindest voice he’d ever known doing it to him.

~~~

Elliott stood at the copier, watching as the ancient machine screeched its light back and forth. He had to be careful with the book. It was almost twenty years old and the spine was well-worn. But it showed all the signs of love. Pages were slightly torn from having been flipped back and forth several times. Notes had been scribbled in margins. The cover was slightly faded from the time Elliott had accidentally knocked a soda over it while gesticulating wildly during a game.

He had so many books that were powerful, that had meaning, that he had read and re-read and re-read, but the one that meant the most to him wasn’t one that told a story, but which had given him the keys to telling his own stories.

The night before, Elliott had stayed up for hours, outlining the adventure that he would run for Sebastian and his friends. He wouldn’t have been able to sleep if he’d tried. He was running off the energy and excitement that he always got when a story idea was percolating. But just as much, he had been energized by Sebastian’s presence. By having him there in his cabin. Their conversation, their touch, everything had been so much more intimate than that first awkward discussion they had while waiting for Sebastian’s clothes to dry.

Elliott had hardly believed that Sebastian seemed to actually _want_ to be touched by him. That he leaned into Elliott’s embrace and clutched at him and craved the shared touch. When they lay together on Elliott’s bed and Sebastian nodded off, Elliott had continued to softly stroke his hair and murmur things to him. Things he wouldn’t have dared to tell Sebastian if he was awake. How beautiful he was, how he made Elliott’s blood feel on fire, how when Elliott touched Sebastian, he felt like he was young again.

And then he had fallen silent, just soaking in the feeling of Sebastian being in his arms, head tucked into the crook of Elliott’s neck. When he had felt Sebastian’s stiffness, it took everything in him to try and keep his own excitement down. It would have been deeply wrong of him to be turned on by something Sebastian couldn’t control. Elliott had closed his eyes, breathing in and out slowly through his nose until his own stiffness abated. He didn’t want to lose his friendship with Sebastian. The warmth and comfort and gentleness they shared were sustaining Elliott. It was motivating him to continue his work on his novel.

And it was also coloring his dreams. When Elliott slept, he felt himself drawn to a figure, smaller than him, thinner, with jet black hair belied by reddish roots, and hazel eyes so full of doubt yet so beautiful. In his dreams, he would be unafraid of holding the figure, of kissing him, of feeling his body, of touching him and being touched.

In his dreams, the figure never recoiled at the touch or sight of his skin.

Elliott pulled his pages off the copier and carefully stapled them together. That would do it for the beginner spell list. Sebastian liked playing the wizard. He’d probably be surprised to learn about the different types of spellcasters. Elliott smiled, remembering Sebastian’s enthusiasm. He had the feeling Sebastian was going to be a shy role-player at first, but if he got the bug for it, Elliott knew he’d be marvelous. He just had to figure out situations that would allow for Sebastian to spread his wings.

Elliott carefully removed the book from the copier and flipped through the pages until he arrived at the blank character sheets. Couldn’t play without those. He carefully made copies of both sides of the sheet, then ran them through double-sided. As he made the last copies, he thought to the adventure he had planned for the following day. It would be enough to challenge them, that was for sure. If there was no challenge, there would be nothing interesting for them to latch onto. But he’d pull his punches if he had to, if they were starting to struggle. This wasn’t his first group who he took through a first game of Solarian Chronicles. And the idea of playing regularly, of making more friends in town, filled his heart with gladness and hope.

The last of his copies made, Elliott organized them, flipping through to make sure he had everything covered. Races, classes, basic information, character sheets. Everything else, they could simply read out of the book for. Yes, he was done. He closed the book and placed his copies on top of a plastic folder. Gunther gave him a small smile as he moved out of the copy room.

“All set?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you kindly,” Elliott said. He placed his copies down and reached for his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

Gunther pressed a few keys on his keyboard, clicked on a couple of buttons, and nodded. “Seventy-two copies at five gold a page. Comes to three hundred sixty gold,” he said.

Elliott pulled out a few bills, silently wincing at the cut into his already strained budget. It wasn’t much gold, truly. But then again, he didn’t have much gold. He shouldn’t be ungrateful. The library was already run on a shoestring budget. He had spoken with Gunther quite a bit over his frequent visits and had learned that the entire operating budget for the library and adjacent museum were covered by local taxes. The recent years had been lean, and the prior curator making off with the entire collection in the middle of the night hadn’t helped matters.

Gunther was a native son of Pelican Town. His mother had been the librarian when he was young and had encouraged him to go to school and get degrees that would let him work in one of the larger cities of the republic. When he’d heard about the theft in his hometown library, he’d resigned his position in Grampleton and moved back home. He lived now in the same apartment he’d grown up in, up the stairs from the library proper.

Elliott could tell there was some part of Gunther, some small part, that was bitter at how things had ended up. But he had a genuine love of learning and knowledge, and seeing the use the library got, even if there weren’t a huge number of patrons, gave him some satisfaction.

He handed the bills over to Gunther. “That should be everything,” he said. “I really do appreciate your help.”

“Running a game of Solarian, are you?” Gunther asked, tucking the money into a small lockbox under the desk. He chuckled slightly. “I played a few times back when it first came out. Couldn’t ever get a group to hang together.”

“We’re playing tomorrow. We’ll be making a decision about whether to make it a regular game after that,” Elliott said. “If we do, would you care to join us?”

Gunther hesitated. “That’s kind of you, but this place keeps me very busy,” he said, avoiding Elliott’s gaze. “Besides, I’m certainly much older than you and your friends. I wouldn’t get any of your jokes.” He smiled, but Elliott could see how it didn’t reach his eyes. He worried about Gunther at times. He never saw him at any festivals, or even out in town at all. Admittedly, he didn’t spend all his time sitting around in the town square, but he’d bumped into just about everybody else at some point or another. As far as he could tell, Gunther never left the library.

“Well, if you change your mind, just say so,” Elliott said. “It would be lovely to see you outside of work sometime.”

Gunther managed a tight smile and nod. “I’ll be sure to let you know,” he said. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Not at the moment, thank you,” Elliott said, collecting his book and copies and the plastic envelope. “You’ve been a pleasure as always, Gunther.”

Gunther chuckled and tipped his hat. Elliott moved out from behind the desk and over into the library proper. He always felt a sense of peace when he was surrounded by books. Pelican Town was lucky to have such a large library. From what he gathered, Becca’s grandfather had been a proponent of education and literacy and had donated the money some thirty years ago to have the library built. There was no school in Pelican Town, so the librarian position usually involved some teaching and tutoring.

At least, it had until the prior curator had left in the dead of night. After that, Penny had stepped up to tutor Jas and Vincent. Elliott had never gotten a clear answer out of anyone as to why there wasn’t an effort to build a school in Pelican Town, or any real details about the former curator himself. The one time he had asked Penny, she got a look of such shame and sadness on her face that he had immediately apologized for being intrusive and changed the subject as quickly as he could.

It was Saturday, so the children weren’t being tutored today. But as he had expected, Penny was sitting in her usual spot, a hardcover book before her. Elliott carefully approached, not wishing to disturb her. Penny was so engrossed in her reading that she didn’t even notice as he sat down across from her. Elliott pursed his lips, knowing that Penny could easily startle if anyone were to surprise her while she read. He lightly cleared his throat and she looked up.

“Oh, Elliott, hello,” she said, smiling.

“ _The Scarlet Pimpernel,_ a very good choice,” he said, returning her smile. “How are you enjoying it?”

“Very much,” she said, placing a bookmark inside before closing the book. “It’s my third time reading it. Each time I get so much more out of it. Her writing is just…” she trailed off.

“So very evocative,” Elliott finished the sentence for her.

“Yes!” Penny said, eyes shining. “It’s like I can experience what life was like during the revolution. I can almost smell the gunpowder and taste the food the nobles are eating.” She caught herself and coughed slightly, pulling herself back from plunging into a full discussion of the Romantic era. “I’m sorry, here I am nattering on. Was there something I could help you with?”

Elliott slowly slid the plastic envelope across the desk toward her. Penny furrowed her brow and put a hand on it. Then it clicked. Her eyes widened and she looked up at him. “Elliott, is this…?”

“The first nine chapters,” Elliott said, smiling. “It’s not finished yet, but… if I keep going at this pace, I should have it completed by the end of spring.”

Penny picked up the envelope and clutched it to her chest as though it were the most precious treasure in the world. “I don’t even know what to say,” she said. “I’m – it’s an honor to get to read your work first, Elliott. It really is.”

“You’re very sweet,” Elliott said, feeling a slight burn in his cheeks. Yoba, was he _blushing_? He cleared his throat. “But, erm, I would like very much if you could help with marking up any errors you see,” he said. “And if there is anything that you feel is a bit contrived or contradicts something from earlier or… just doesn’t sound good, please mark that as well. As I said, I can pay you either by the page or by the hour, whichever you’d prefer.”

“I will,” Penny said. She opened the envelope and pulled out the first page. “ _When Stars Collide,_ by Elliott C. Rourke,” she read. She looked up at him, a sly smile on her lips. “Well, with a name and middle initial like that, you were doomed to be an author.”

Elliott chuckled. “I hope you don’t mind, but… there’s a bit of a romance that happens as well,” he said. “If you’re not comfortable with scenes that are a little on the risqué side, you could –”

“Elliott,” Penny said, looking him in the eyes, “do you really think I checked _Lady Chatterley’s Lover_ out of this place sixteen times in a year because I was interested in how the aristocracy was crumbling after the war?”

~~~

Sebastian grimaced as he finished hauling the vacuum cleaner up the stairs from the basement. It had been a pain navigating it down and then up the stairs, but he had to admit, his floors looked a lot better now. His room smelled a lot better, too, with the room freshener he’d sprayed and one of mom’s lemon-scented candles that was burning. His sheets were in the washing machine and should be ready to get put on later that night.

Sebastian checked his watch. Already seven. He was tired. Cleaning, it turned out, was exhausting, more mentally than physically. He’d scrubbed out the sink in his bathroom and his shower – just in case anybody peeked inside – as well as mopped the tile floors. He’d picked up the clothes that he had strewn over much of the floor in his bedroom and washed those earlier. They were folded now and in his dresser. He had felt mom and Demetrius and Maru watching him as he worked and hauled laundry up and down the stairs – sometimes with confusion, sometimes with amusement. Mercifully, they had kept most of their comments to themselves.

Mom had forced him to stop and eat dinner around six. He’d gulped it down quickly and gotten back to work. It was a strange paradox that putting all his effort into cleaning and straightening up was helping keep him from actively thinking about Elliott, yet he still found himself focusing on what Elliott would think of his place.

Being in Elliott’s cabin twice now had made Sebastian realize how little the writer actually had. At first, he thought Elliott was just trying to live as spartan a lifestyle as possible. But when Elliott had confessed his money troubles and how he was barely scraping by, Sebastian had felt terrible. He knew his family was one of the more fortunate ones in Pelican Town. He and Maru had their own rooms. They could get things they wanted. He had two computers, and a game system, and a large space that was all his own. He didn’t want Elliott to think he was spoiled or ungrateful.

_I work hard. I’m working every day. I don’t want him to think I’m lazy._

Deep down, he knew that was what his family thought. The times they made jokes about how late he slept or when Demetrius or mom would call down the stairs, telling him dinner was ready and to pause his game when he was working. It stung. He didn’t know if they knew how much it stung. He wasn’t lazy. It wasn’t uncommon for him to work fifty- or sixty-hour weeks when projects really needed completing. That was a lot more than most people in town worked. But because they didn’t see it, because they didn’t realize how much he did, they thought he was lazy.

Then yesterday, Elliott had seen him work, and the pride and pleasure that Sebastian got from Elliott complimenting his work and praising him made him feel like everything was going to be okay. The same way listening to Elliott play the piano or being held in Elliott’s arms made him feel like it was going to be okay.

And that was what made him clean so thoroughly. He hadn’t scrubbed or dusted or otherwise deep-cleaned his room in ages. He was not going to have Elliott be disgusted by the way Sebastian lived. He emptied the trash and straightened the video games under his TV and rinsed out the ashtray and organized the shirts in his closet and packed up the board game and dusted the table and desk. Every time, he was thinking about Elliott’s face when he came downstairs. He didn’t want the first reaction to be that slight pause and the polite smile and a pointed ignoring of the conditions of his room.

Sebastian put the vacuum back in the hall closet and moved downstairs one last time. He was exhausted. He’d showered this morning, but he felt like he had to take another one. _How can cleaning make you feel so filthy?_ He’d worked hard. He was ready for a nice shower. And then he could get his sheets on his bed and they’d be warm and he could get right into them and…

Actually, that sounded pretty good. Maybe there was something to this whole keeping your place clean thing.

Sebastian sat in his chair, pulling off his socks and shirt. He was about to unbuckle his belt when his phone lit up. He looked over at the preview of the text coming in. It was Abby.

_**Hey, so bad news about tomorrow…** _

His stomach flipped. _No. No, come_ on, _Abby._ He picked his phone up and unlocked it, reading the full text.

_**Hey, so bad news about tomorrow. Mom put the nix on it. She says she doesn’t want me out the night before midterms start. I told her I got a lot of studying done, but she’s being a hardass. Really sorry. :(** _

Sebastian let out a groan. His fingers flew over the phone as he typed a reply.

_She won’t even let you go out for a few hours? Elliott was planning a story for four characters. Without you, there’s only going to be three._

He could see the floating ellipsis as Abby typed something back.

_**I know, I’m really sorry. I thought she’d be fine with it since I didn’t rehearse today and I studied all day. It’s either this or they don’t pay for the bus on Saturday.** _

Sebastian ground his molars together. It figured. It absolutely figured. He let out a long breath.

_K. I’ll figure something out._

He sent the message and put his phone face-down without looking to see if Abby was responding or not. She didn’t often flake last-minute like this, but when she did, it was almost always too late to do something about it. She had a habit of not asking permission for something until it was almost time for it to happen. Usually her parents just gave in and let her do it. But every once in a while, they called her bluff. Just his luck it would happen now.

 _Ugh. I need a shower._ Sebastian stood and dropped his pants and boxers to the floor. He moved across the room to his bathroom and started the shower. While he waited for the water to heat up, he started running through his options.

 _I could text Elliott. Maybe tell him someone had to back out last minute._ But that would mean Elliott would have to change everything in the story to accommodate just the few of them. In the board game, they had to select how many players were there and that would determine events and who they fought. He assumed it would be the same way. Plus, that was just fucking rude. Elliott went through all this trouble. Sebastian was not going to be a pain.

 _Maybe I could get someone else to step in?_ But who? There weren’t _that_ many people he spent time with in Pelican Town. Sam might know somebody. Penny? Shane? Sebastian wasn’t sure Sam actually spent any time with Shane outside of their shared JojaMart shifts. He would speak up for Shane on occasion when someone was making a truly snide remark. _“Leave him alone. He’s got a lot going on.”_ But never anything more than that. He didn’t think Sam and Shane were friends.

Sebastian stepped into the shower and let out a small groan as the hot water started to wash away the sweat of the day. He picked up the soap and began lathering his body.

 _Maybe I could ask Elliott if Leah wants to play?_ He didn’t know much about Leah, but she was Elliott’s best friend. She was arty. She might get into this sort of thing. Then again, she just as easily might not.

Sebastian let out a long sigh. There was the same problem with every one of these options. He was relying on somebody else instead of taking care of it himself. He didn’t want to bug Sam or Elliott this late. And he was wracking his brain trying to think of someone who would be a big enough nerd to want to –

Sebastian stopped, the soap coming to a rest on his left arm. The sound of the shower became consistent as his movement through the spray halted. He let out a long groan. _No. No, please._ But he couldn’t think of anyone else. _I am going to regret this. I just know it._

He finished cleaning his body and let the water wash the suds and lather away. He had already shampooed his hair that morning. He didn’t want to overdo it. And his roots were starting to come through. The hair dye always seemed like it was holding for a while, and then it would just start washing out all at once. He needed to order a new box.

Sebastian turned off the shower and grabbed his towel, starting to dry himself off. If he was going to take care of this and not bother Elliott any more than he already had, he needed to put his big boy pants on and just do it. He stepped out of the shower and finished rubbing the towel on his legs and feet. He did feel a lot better. Physically, anyway. Mentally, he wasn’t sure. He quickly applied deodorant and moved back into his room, reaching down to pick up his clothes. He put his pants over the back of his computer chair and dropped the rest into his hamper before he slid it into his closet.

A t-shirt and pajama bottoms later, Sebastian sat down, gearing himself for this conversation. He didn’t want to do it. But he couldn’t think of any other thing to do. He moved for the door, heading upstairs. His footsteps sounded heavier than usual. He was tired. He’d been up and down the stairs probably twenty times today. After he got his sheets out of the dryer, he wasn’t going back up until morning. If the house caught fire, he’d let smoke inhalation take him and be done with it.

He moved down the hallway, past the kitchen and dining room and turned left at the end of the hall. He could already hear noises coming from inside the room. There was music playing, and the sounds of tools on metal. Sebastian sent up a quick prayer to Yoba for patience and knocked.

“Coming!” He heard footsteps moving to the door. When Maru opened it, she looked surprised at seeing her half-brother on the other side. “Oh, uh – hey, Seb.” She was holding a wrench in her hand. She didn’t seem to know what to do with it. “What’s up?”

Sebastian pressed his lips together. “So, I’m having friends over tomorrow,” he began.

Maru rolled her eyes. “I know. You’ve been cleaning all day,” she said. “I’m not going to get in your way. I probably won’t be out of my room most of the day.”

Sebastian felt the irritation rise. They always managed to bring out the worst in each other. “That wasn’t –” he caught himself. He could hear the edge in his voice. He took in a breath. “That wasn’t what I was going to ask,” he said, trying to temper it. “Abby can’t make it. And the game needs four to play. So I wondered if you’d…” he trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence.

Maru’s expression landed somewhere between perplexed and baffled. “You – wait, you want me to play a game with you? And your friends?” she asked. “Are –” she stopped. _“Really?”_

“Yeah, really,” Sebastian said. “What, is it that weird that I’m asking you to hang out?”

“I mean, kind of,” Maru said. She leaned in the doorframe. Sebastian was grateful at not having to look up as much. He didn’t want it to bother him as much as it did that his younger sister had two inches in height on him. “It’s not like we… do that much together. But… yeah. That sounds good.” He could suddenly see the small but growing smile on her face. “What time?”

“Around noon. 12:30, maybe,” Sebastian said. “We’re going to make our characters and then play from there. I’ll, uh… I’ll let you know when they get here.” He turned.

“Okay, sounds good,” Maru said. Sebastian was almost halfway down the hall away from her room when he heard her ask, “Seb?”

Sebastian stopped and closed his eyes. He willed himself to turn around and ask, “Yeah?”

Maru’s expression wasn’t one he’d seen in a long time. “Thanks,” she said. “It’s… nice of you to ask me.”

Sebastian felt a sensation in his chest that was neither fully comfortable nor uncomfortable. “No problem,” he said. He turned and resumed walking back down the hall. He heard Maru close the door behind her. He made his way to the mud room where the dryer had thankfully finished his sheets. He opened the dryer door and began pulling them out, bunching them in his arms.

He and Maru hadn’t always been like oil and water. It wasn’t long after mom and Demetrius got married that mom had gotten pregnant. Maru was only four years younger than Sebastian, and he’d been fascinated with her when they were young: how small she was, how their hair was almost the same shade even though her skin was darker than his. He’d tried to look out for her. He showed her bugs or frogs he’d caught and she’d laughed and clapped her hands. Even when she was little, her eyes had been so bad that she needed glasses, and he always felt good when he saw himself reflected in them.

When they were both young, it hadn’t been a big deal for them to share a room. But close spaces hadn’t led to lasting friendships. When Maru started getting interests of her own, and she started leaving things around – that was the one trait Robin despaired both her children had, a tendency to leave messes wherever they went – they’d begun fighting more. Demetrius, of course, always took Maru’s side. She was his actual daughter. Sebastian was just his stepson. That was when things started to get icy between him and Demetrius. Mom tried to play mediator as much as she could, but Sebastian could tell the stress was getting to her as well.

And then he’d dragged his mattress down to the basement and claimed it as his own. And never left.

Maru almost never went down to Sebastian’s room. And he hardly ever went to hers. He hoped she wasn’t going to be a total dud. If he could get her nerding out about something, maybe that would be enough to make her want to play. And it wasn’t like they would need to keep her around all the time when they played. He was sure Abby would be up for this next time.

But for now, Sebastian had a strange feeling of gratitude toward Maru. It wasn’t how he usually felt about her. Usually there was a bitter sense of resentment in his chest whenever he thought about how she always seemed to do everything right, even though he was working harder and more days than her and she wasn’t in college either.

He closed the dryer door and began making his way to the stairs down to the basement. He was going to make his bed and then maybe get a little work done and then get some sleep. He didn’t want to be still in bed by the time people started arriving. But things seemed to be going well. They had their players, and his room was clean, and Elliott would be here tomorrow.

Now he and Maru just had to get through this game without murdering each other.

~~~

Elliott loved walks in the rain. Pangolais had a reputation – not entirely undeserved, but nowhere near so severe as the stereotype – of never having any weather that wasn’t rainy and gloomy. Elliott found that he needed to get used to long stretches of days without rain when he moved to Ferngill. Especially winter. Goodness, he could hardly stand how winter passed without a single day of rain. When it did rain, he would open his umbrella and step out and smell the clean air and feel the coolness all around and inside of him. It was on days like today that he was the most homesick. He remembered fondly sitting in the apartment over the garage while mum baked something warm and comforting, and dad listened to the radio, and he watched as the rain coursed slowly down the windowpanes.

Those were good days. As hard as mum and dad worked, they always made sure that there was time for him. That he felt safe and comfortable and knew he was loved. Every time he thought about them, his heart ached. He needed to set up a time to talk with them. It was hard – neither mum nor dad really texted, and email was only marginally better. And the time zone distance, seven hours from Stardew Valley to Pangolais, was hard to overcome as well. But the more he walked, the more he was heartsick for home.

Or what home had been. Even though he was from Pangolais, even though it would always be his homeland, he had lived in Ferngill for seven years now. _Every seven years, your cells totally regenerate._ He was a completely different person now than he was when he left Pangolais. It had been almost two years since he had last seen mum and dad. Dad had gone so gray and there were more wrinkles around mum’s eyes and mouth now than there had been. And yet they had been so happy to see him. At the time, he’d thought the introduction to James had gone well. But afterward, mum hadn’t asked about James much, as she had done in the prior years. And it was only a few weeks after that when Elliott had tried to tell James about his offer from Zuzu Continental, and their relationship had cracked open.

Elliott exhaled, a long, slow breath, and then inhaled through his nose, taking in the beautiful scent of the fresh greenery and the wet earth. He didn’t want to think about James now. He didn’t _have_ to think about James now. James was probably getting ready for another soul-crushing week at JojaCorp. And Elliott was going to play Solarian Chronicles for the first time in literally years.

He had been so excited the night before that he was hardly able to sleep. It was only partially the idea of running the game that had heightened his adrenaline. He was going to spend more time with Sebastian. Not alone, granted, there would be other people there. But it would be his first time at Sebastian’s house. His first time actually, overtly, hanging out with him. Sebastian wasn’t ashamed of their friendship. Elliott didn’t think he was, but the doubts that crept and occasionally came knocking had him unsure.

As much as he enjoyed his time alone with Sebastian, the soft touches and cuddling and intimate conversations, he was just as excited to spend time with Sebastian doing everyday things that friends did. Their time together was precious to Elliott, and he wanted to run the game well for him. As well as for Becca, and Sam, and Abby. There were few things that made him more excited than the opportunity to tell a riveting story.

As he neared the mountain area outside of Pelican Town, Elliott looked up to see the Hill residence looming before him. He had never been to Sebastian’s house before. He hadn’t had much need to come up this way before, other than the occasional walk that took him throughout the outskirts of town. When he would forage, he usually went west, toward Leah’s house and Marnie’s ranch, and the strange tower that was on the very edge of the forest.

But he could see why Robin had built their home up here. The mountain air was glorious, and from the hilltop, he could just barely see down to the beach. On a clear day, he had no doubt the ocean view would be spectacular. He neared the front door and carefully adjusted the tote bag he was carrying onto his elbow, stepping inside and closing his umbrella. He was early, about ten minutes before he told Sebastian he would be there, but there was a reason for it.

Robin looked up from the counter where she was reading a magazine and did a double-take upon seeing him. “Oh – hello, Elliott,” she said with a smile, closing the glossy pages. “What can I help you with?”

Elliott smiled as he tied up his umbrella. He made sure to wipe his shoes on the mat before stepping in closer. “Good morning, Robin,” he said. “I hope you’re well. I was wondering if you could help me with some fixing up of my cabin?”

Robin’s smile widened. “Of course!” she said, reaching for a nearby notepad. “What were you looking to have done? It’s an old building, I haven’t ever looked at it in depth, but I’m sure we can arrange something.”

“Well, I can say that it has its charms, but…” Elliott trailed off. “I wondered if you might be able to help fix the water pressure. It’s been terrible since I moved in. And I may want to get a proper kitchen put in as well. Oh, and there are these drafts…” he caught himself. “Pardon me. You probably want to take one of those at a time.”

“No, no worries,” Robin said, chuckling warmly. He could see she was jotting notes down quickly. Elliott could see how strong her hands and arms were – she was more muscular than he ever had been in his life. “All right, so fixing the water pressure, fixing the drafts, installing a kitchen,” she said. “That last one will be the most expensive, so let me save that for last. We can probably get the water pressure taken care of in an afternoon, I’d just need to check the pipes and make sure there aren’t any leaks. How bad are the drafts?” she asked, looking up.

“Certainly the worst in winter, but – well, truthfully, they’re quite bad year-round,” Elliott admitted. “I can usually manage well enough with blankets, but they whistle through the walls, especially around the door.”

Robin shook her head. “That’s not good,” she said. “You should have come to me earlier. But I should be able to fix those with some sealant. Again, probably not too much to worry about. And the kitchen, what do you currently have?”

“A stovetop, sink, cabinets,” Elliott said. Robin appeared to be waiting for him to go on. “No, that’s all,” he said.

“Oh, Elliott,” Robin sighed. “You poor thing, you’ve been living there for a year and a half.” She wrote down some more notes to herself. “Well, the good news is that you’re renting from the town, so I can almost certainly get Mayor Lewis to cover the first two costs,” she said.

“Oh, wonderful!” Elliott said, smiling. That was a relief. He would have a little more room in his budget for summer after all.

“Now, the kitchen, I don’t think he’d be willing to cover the entire amount, but I can be pretty persuasive, and I imagine I could get him to agree to cover half,” she said. “He really shouldn’t have rented it out to you if it was in that sort of condition. I’d need to see the actual inside of the cabin before I quoted you a price, but I can do that when I come to fix the drafts and the water pressure.”

“Magnificent. Robin, you are an absolute peach,” Elliott said. “I can’t tell you what this means to me.”

“I just wish you’d said something after you’d been there a month,” Robin said, shaking her head again. “Anyway. We can discuss that a little more later on. Let me talk to our mayor and see what he’s willing to do, and then we can go from there.” She smiled at him. “Anything else I can do for you while you’re here?”

“Yes, actually,” Elliott said. “Where is Sebastian’s room?”

Robin blinked. “Um. Downstairs,” she said, quirking her head. “His room is in the basement of the house. But he’s having friends over today, and –” Realization hit her. “You’re one of the friends?”

“Yes, I’m running the game that the rest are playing in,” Elliott said, lifting his tote bag. “Turns out Sebastian and I are both a fan of Solarian Chronicles.”

“Oh, that’s – that’s wonderful, really,” Robin said, her smile softening. “I didn’t even know you were friends with Sebby.”

Elliott did his best not to react. _Sebby? Sweet Yoba, woman, what a terrible nickname._ “We’ve had the chance to chat a bit recently and hit it off,” Elliott said. “He’s a very nice young man, you should be proud.”

“I am,” Robin said. There was a sudden gravity to her words. “I’m…” she let out a breath. “I’m actually quite relieved to hear he’s making new friends. He hasn’t made many friends in a while. So, thank you.”

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine,” Elliott said. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he heard a door opening and closing, then the sound of footsteps coming upstairs.

“Hey, mom, they should be getting here soon. When they get here, can you just –” Sebastian’s words were cut off as he rounded the corner and saw Elliott and Robin in conversation. “Oh – you’re – you’re here,” he said, a small smile coming to his face as he saw Elliott.

“A few minutes early, to ask your lovely mother about some repairs to my palatial estate,” Elliott said. Robin chuckled.

“You both have fun, now,” she said. “And Sebby, I’ll send the others down when they get here.”

“Great,” Sebastian said. Robin watched as he never removed his eyes from Elliott. “I, uh, I just need to grab some snacks, and…”

“Let me help you,” Elliott said. The two of them moved forward toward the kitchen.

As they went, Robin remained behind the counter, watching them. Their conversation was too quiet for her to make out, but the way Sebastian laughed and the softness in his eyes was something Robin hadn’t heard or seen in… well, she couldn’t remember the last time, honestly. She had never seen Sebastian look at someone that way before. Not even Abby. Not even with all the times she’d asked him about Abby, with how often they hung out and how much time Abby spent over here.

Robin felt a warmth around her heart. Well. It wasn’t exactly what she’d expected, but nobody who made her son smile like that could be bad.

~~~

Sebastian balanced the bags of chips and cookies in his hands as he led Elliott down the stairs. He had bought them at Pierre’s yesterday, before he started cleaning everything up. “Right through here,” he said as he reached the bottom of the stairs. _Duh. Where else did you think he’d go? There’s only one door._ He used his left hand to keep the bags in his right arm steady and opened the door.

He had been anxious about Elliott seeing his room for the first time since he’d invited Elliott over. Part of him wanted to look back at Elliott and see his expression, but the other half couldn’t even bear the thought. But he had to step in and hold the door for Elliott, who was carrying a small case of sparkling water in one arm and his bag in the other. He was going to see Elliott whether he liked it or not.

To his relief, Elliott smiled as he entered. “You have a nice bit of space in here,” he said, stepping inside. “I think this is about as big as my entire cabin.”

“Ceilings aren’t as tall,” Sebastian said. “But yeah, it’s not bad.” Relief settled on him. Elliott wasn’t grossed out by how he lived. He closed the door behind Elliott and moved over, setting the snacks down near the table. “I figured we’d play here. There’s enough room for us all to sit around.”

“Yes, that should work well,” Elliott said, walking behind Sebastian. He carefully set the sparkling waters down near where Sebastian had placed the other snacks, then took a seat on one of the beanbag chairs. “Ah. Comfy,” he said, settling in. He looked up with surprise, then smiled as Sebastian settled onto the same chair and slid his arms around Elliott, holding him close.

“Well, hello,” he said, tucking Sebastian into himself as he embraced the smaller man.

“Hi,” Sebastian said quietly. They sat in silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence, for a moment. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad to be here,” Elliott said, his own voice softer than before. “This is much nicer than my own living quarters. And it wouldn’t have been very pleasant with the dampness from the rain.” He began gently stroking Sebastian’s hair. Sebastian nuzzled his head closer to Elliott.

“Can we just stay here for a minute? Before the others get here?” Sebastian asked.

“Of course,” Elliott said. He kissed the top of Sebastian’s head. “Whatever you’d like.” He gently ran his hand up and down Sebastian’s back. He was glad Sebastian was so comfortable being close to him. The way Sebastian had reacted when he had curled up next to Elliott and tucked into him was so familiar, even though they had only done this once before. Elliott’s chest felt warm. He almost wished they would have more time just for themselves. That maybe the others were running late.

“Oh, uh… there’s a little change of plans,” Sebastian mumbled against Elliott. He pulled back to look up at Elliott’s face. “Abby can’t make it. She’s got midterms starting tomorrow. So Maru’s going to play with us.”

Elliott smiled. “That’s no trouble at all,” he said. He reached up and gently brushed a long lock of black hair from Sebastian’s face. His eyes met Sebastian’s. Their faces were only a couple feet from each other. Elliott had to suppress the sudden, aching desire to lean forward and press his lips against Sebastian’s. He would truly lose Sebastian as a friend if he did that. But the way Sebastian was looking at him, the way his eyes moved slightly back and forth, seeming to take in all of Elliott’s face, suddenly made Elliott wonder if there was more to Sebastian’s embrace and closeness than he’d previously thought.

 _Don’t be foolish._ Sebastian and Abigail were always around each other. Even if they weren’t _dating_ dating, they certainly seemed like they were comfortable together. Elliott didn’t want to interfere with that. But oh, Yoba, he ached to be touched the way he had been once. He wanted so badly to feel the touch and kiss of another man, to feel the warmth of shared, joined bodies. And Sebastian…

No. He wasn’t going to risk it. If something were to happen, Sebastian would need to give a clear indication. Elliott wouldn’t sacrifice a close friendship over what-ifs and maybes. He smiled at Sebastian and reached up to stroke his cheek. Sebastian leaned into the touch. Elliott was about to speak when they both heard footsteps coming downstairs.

Sebastian pulled away and moved over to the seat next to Elliott. He busied himself with opening bags of snacks. Elliott felt a sudden pang in his chest. _He’s ashamed._ As much as Sebastian seemed to treasure their time together, he didn’t want to be affectionate with Elliott where others could see. Elliott followed his lead and reached into his tote bag, pulling out the Solarian chronicles book, the copies he’d made at the library, and a drawstring bag that rattled.

Sebastian felt his hands shaking slightly. He didn’t dare look at Elliott. He knew what he had just done was a huge insult. But he couldn’t help it. The fear of Sam or Becca or – Yoba forbid – Maru seeing them curled up into each other? Seeing the look Sebastian knew was on his face, the one that he knew betrayed his deep desire for Elliott? He was afraid. He was a coward. He knew it. But the fear made him slip away from Elliott and pretend like he didn’t crave Elliott being near him.

There was so much Sebastian wanted desperately to say to Elliott. Maybe later, after the others had gone. If Elliott wasn’t offended and wanted to leave immediately. The sound of voices laughing and playfully arguing got more prevalent.

And then the door opened and Sam and Becca piled in, Maru not far behind them.

“I’m just saying, man, that whole librarian aesthetic. They’re all freaks,” Becca said.

“I don’t even think Penny knows what sex is,” Sam argued back. “Besides, she’s my friend, not my girlfriend.”

“Uh-huh,” Becca said. “So when Vincent saw the two of you climbing trees…”

“I don’t need to hear this about my best friend!” Maru said, putting her hands over her ears. “La la la, can’t hear you!”

Elliott laughed. “Well, this is going to be a spirited bunch, that’s for sure,” he said. He leaned up into a hug with Becca as she came over to the table and leaned down to squeeze him. “How are you, sunflower?” he asked.

“Glad for the rain,” she groaned. “I swear, every season, I tell myself I’m going to get those fucking sprinklers set up and every season I curse past me for not just biting the bullet.” She flopped down in the beanbag next to Elliott. “Ooh, cookies,” she said, reaching across and pulling a few out of the bag.

“Good to see you, too,” Sebastian griped, though the gleam of contentment in his eyes belied the irritated tone of his voice.

Becca paused in her chewing and grinned across the table at Sebastian. “I ruv you, Sheb,” she said through a mouthful of cookies.

“Gross, dude!” Sebastian said, cringing. Becca laughed and reached for a sparkling water. Sam and Maru took seats across the table from Elliott.

“All right, I suppose we can get started,” Elliott said as the others began helping themselves to snacks and drinks. Though he was hungry, he didn’t want to eat while he was explaining the game. He opened the book and placed it out on the table. “We’re here to play Solarian Chronicles. It’s a game of magic and adventure, where you’ll each create a character from scratch and play that character as he or she encounters excitement and danger.” He looked up, unable to keep the smile from his face. “I’m going to be running the game today, and if this turns out to be something you all enjoy, I’d be thrilled to keep running it. But I think we should get started by having you make up your characters.”

Elliott passed a blank character sheet and a pencil to each of the four players at the table, then began flipping through the book. “The two biggest decisions you need to make are your race, which is what species you are, and your class, which is what you’re good at, what you specialize in,” he said. “Any race can be any class, but if there’s a specific idea you have in mind about what you’d like to play, you might want to think about what pairs well with that.”

“Can I be a drow?” Becca asked, grinning.

Elliott closed his eyes and took in a breath through his nose. He opened his eyes and did his best to smile in Becca’s direction. “Why would you like to play a drow?” he asked.

“’Cause they look cool,” Becca said.

“And there’s also only one drow in the entire canon who’s not of an evil alignment,” Elliott said. “Is there anything a drow gives you that another elf wouldn’t?”

“Black skin and white hair,” Becca said. Elliott affixed the look he’d seen Penny giving him and Sebastian when they were making too much noise in the library. “Fiiiiine. You’re no fun,” Becca said.

For the next ten minutes, Elliott carefully flipped through the book, outlining the options for play to everyone. When he finished, he looked up at the four of them. “Now, with a group of four, I’ll generally recommend that there isn’t a huge amount of overlap in classes, so you might want to discuss what you’d like to do,” he said. “Is there anything any of you would prefer?”

“I’m usually the warrior, so that would be… it’s called a fighter here?” Sam asked.

“Fighter, yes,” Elliott said. “Or you could be another martial class, but being a fighter gives you the most variety.”

“Hey, whatever’s easy,” Sam said. “And Seb likes to cast magic.”

“I…” Sebastian trailed off. Elliott looked over at him and could see some uncertainty.

“Were you thinking of maybe something else?” Elliott asked.

“Yeah, I… what was the one that was like a thief, the one that’s sneaky?” Sebastian asked.

“Oh, a rogue,” Elliott said. “They can be quite fun to play. And also very versatile. There are many types of rogues.”

“Yeah, I think… I think I’d like that,” Sebastian said. Elliott watched as he wrote ‘ROGUE’ on his sheet.

Elliott looked up at Maru and Becca. “Any preference either of you have?” he asked.

Becca held up her hands. “I have to make decisions all the time. Maru, you pick,” she said.

Maru was considering carefully. “We’re going to need a healer,” she said slowly. “I think I want to do that.”

“So, a cleric, very good,” Elliott said. “And yes, a very important role there.” He flipped to the page in the book where Maru could start recording information from. Then he looked to Becca. “All right, so what are you considering, my dear?” he asked.

“Well,” Becca said, tapping her fingers on the table. “I think probably a magician of some type. But I honestly don’t remember what you said the differences between them were.”

“Ah,” Elliott said. “A wizard, a traditional wizard, is one who studied magic and has to cast spells by preparing them beforehand. A sorcerer has magic incarnate. She can’t cast as many spells as a wizard, but she can tap into them very easily.”

“And the other one… warlock, what’s a warlock?” Becca asked.

Elliott pursed his lips. “A warlock has a magical sugar daddy,” he said.

The scratching of pencils on paper stopped as all four looked up and stared at him in unison.

“It’s technically a patron,” he admitted, “but the concept is… yes, magical sugar daddy.”

“Right,” Becca said. “So, sorcerer?”

Slowly, carefully, and with patience, Elliott guided them through creating their characters. Sebastian noticed that he never raised his voice, never seemed to get annoyed, no matter how obvious – or designed to irritate, in Becca’s case – the question was.

As the others worked filling out portions of their sheets, Elliott turned to Sebastian. “Now, what race were you considering?” he asked.

“I, um…” Sebastian flipped back and forth through the book. “I mean, some of these look cool. I guess I could be…”

“Sebastian.” Sebastian looked up. Elliott’s tone had a hint of sternness, but his eyes were as kind as ever. “What do you _want_ to play?”

Sebastian let out a breath and finally flipped to the page he kept looking at. “I don’t remember how to pronounce it,” he said.

“Oh, tieflings,” Elliott said, smiling. “That’s quite a good choice for rogues. They give you a nice boost. What makes you want to play a tiefling?”

Sebastian glanced up briefly. The others seemed to be busy working on their sheets. He kept his voice slightly lower than usual. “Just… the feeling of not belonging. Of being an outcast,” he said. “I kind of get it.”

Elliott felt a twinge in his chest. He offered Sebastian a small smile. “Well, I suppose that’s as good a reason as any,” he said. He moved slightly closer to Sebastian. “Here, let me show you what you need to write down on your sheet.”

Sebastian was quiet as Elliott helped guide him through the sheet, showing him where to record numbers and information. The sheet had been intimidating as hell when he’d first looked it over, but Elliott was able to explain what everything meant. And he never made Sebastian feel stupid for not grasping it right away.

When Elliott’s hand brushed over his to point to a spot on the sheet that he’d missed, Sebastian had to stifle a shiver. _I’m sorry I’m a coward._

It took the better part of an hour for everyone to finish recording information on their sheets and for Elliott to explain their powers and abilities. But eventually, all the empty spaces on the sheets were completed. At that, Elliott opened the drawstring bag and shook out dice, most of which looked unlike anything Sebastian had ever seen. There were ones that looked like small pyramids, the six-sided ones he recognized from other games he’d played, and ones with way more sides than that. Elliott began sorting them out, and Sebastian quickly realized that there was one set of dice for each color – red, green, blue, purple, orange, white, and black.

Once Elliott finished sorting them out, he looked up at the players and smiled. “One thing I like to ask you to think about, which I find gets you into the mindset of your character, is what his or her favorite color is,” he said. “Pick the set of dice that’s closest to that. Not _your_ favorite color, but your character’s.”

“Oh, definitely red,” Becca said, reaching forward and picking up the set of red dice. “Anything to do with fire or explosions.”

“So, burns are covered in my cure spells, right?” Maru asked.

Elliott laughed. “Yes, they are,” he said. “Any sort of damage, really. Certainly anything you’ll run into at this level.”

“Cool,” Maru said. She reached forward and picked up the blue dice. “Because she grew up underground and now the sky makes her happy whenever she sees it.”

“Lovely,” Elliott said. He looked over to Sam and Sebastian. “Gentlemen?”

Sam reached out, hesitating over the dice. Eventually, he decided on the green set. “I dunno. I just think he likes green,” he said, shrugging.

Sebastian had waited until last deliberately. He had hoped someone else would grab the black set before him. He didn’t want to be a stereotype.

“Oh, I know what he’s taking,” Maru said, chuckling.

Sebastian shot his sister a look. “You don’t know me,” he said. Impulsively, he reached out and grabbed the orange set. At the surprised looks, he opened his mouth. Words started spilling out before he could stop them. “His family was really poor growing up,” he said. “Once a year, he’d get a treat for his birthday. Usually some sort of fruit. Oranges were his favorite. And he has a topaz necklace he always wears under his shirt. He really likes orange.”

Elliott smiled widely. “Look at you, already making your character’s history,” he said. Sebastian felt a slight rush of blood in his ears. If he hadn’t gotten to know Elliott, he might have thought Elliott was making fun of him. But Elliott wouldn’t do that. He was just enthusiastic. He wasn’t going to say anything to hurt Sebastian.

“Very well,” Elliott said, clearing most of the rest of the dice off the table but keeping the purple set in front of himself. He tipped the book upward so it was standing on the table, creating a slight shield. “I’ll be occasionally making rolls, but most of the time when rolls are occurring, it will be one of you. It might help you to arrange them in some order so you can tell at a glance what size die it is. I usually arrange mine with the number on top that corresponds to the highest number on the die.” He waited as the players all placed their dice in front of themselves. Becca placed hers left to right. Maru’s were up and down. Sam had his in a crescent. And Sebastian placed his d20 at the center and the others around in a pattern that Elliott couldn’t quite –

Wait a minute. The d4 was in the lower right. The d6 directly below the d20. Then the d8. Sebastian was placing them where the numbers on a clock would be, with the d12 at the top. _You clever thing. I would never have thought of that._

“All right, ladies and gentlemen,” Elliott said, folding his hands behind the book as he looked around the table. “We are ready. If you have any questions as we’re playing or you’re unsure of what to do, please ask. This is an introductory game, it’s meant to give you the flavor of what the world of Solarian is and how the game works. So don’t suffer in silence. This is meant to be fun.”

Elliott took in a breath and leaned forward against the table. “The festival and feast day of Saint Anoushka is one of the favorite holidays of every citizen in Bell’s Keep, the capital of Solarian,” he said, his voice suddenly sounding more resonant than before. Sebastian felt a flush of excitement run through him. Elliott was getting into storyteller mode. 

~~~

_From the early services at the temples, to the feasts that are served on every corner at the expense of the royal family and the Church of the Rising Star, to the grand parade and beautiful fireworks that close the evening, it is a time of celebration and goodwill. Saint Anoushka, after all, was the one who followed the star that coursed across the night sky and retrieved the holy relics that led to the founding of Bell’s Keep, and ultimately of Solarian itself. With the golden staff, she led her people to the cliffs overlooking the sea. With the jeweled chalice, she took the salt water that flowed and purified it so that all could drink. And with the silver sword, she vanquished the monstrous beings that threatened the early Solarians and kept her people safe. When Saint Anoushka died an elderly woman, she bequeathed the treasures to the people of Solarian, and entrusted the rule of the city to the bravest, most noble family, the ancestors of Queen Olympia and the rest of the royal family. It is said even today that the stars in the night sky are the eyes of Saint Anoushka, looking down on Solarian and blessing it from the heavens above._

_Her feast day, then, is a day for all to celebrate. By order of the queen, all non-hospitality businesses are to be closed, everyone who needs succor is to be fed, and none are to come to harm. Which is why it is so very concerning that you are all running for your lives down a dark alleyway._

~~~

“Wait, _what?_ ” Becca asked.

Elliott simply smiled. “If you’d each be so kind in turn as to give your character’s name, and a physical description of what he or she looks like,” he said, looking to his left.

“You are the worst,” Becca said, laughing and shaking her head. “Okay. So, I am playing Lyra Moonbrook. She’s a half-elf sorcerer with dark hair, pale skin, and slightly-pointed ears, wearing a long robe of the royal academy of magic. Her most striking feature is amber-colored eyes, because I am just that extra.”

“Very good,” Elliott said, looking to Sam.

“Ugh, I am not going to be good at this,” Sam chuckled. “So, Darvin Greycastle is a human. Human fighter. He’s not that tall, but he is built pretty stocky, with muscle, and he wears leather armor. Close-cut blond hair, green eyes, and a scar on his left cheek. Oh, and he’s got a big-ass sword slung across his back.”

“That was good, don’t disparage yourself,” Elliott said. “Maru?”

“I’m playing Helga Battlehammer,” Maru said. “She is a dwarf cleric, definitely the shortest one here. She has tan skin, brown hair and eyes, she wears a white robe with the symbols of her holy order on it, and her hands are callused from her years when she was just a laborer in the undermountain.”

“Wonderful!” Elliott said. He turned at last to Sebastian. “And Sebastian. Who are you playing?”

Sebastian swallowed, trying to clear the nervous lump in his throat. “I’m playing Therai,” he said. “No last name, just Therai. He’s a tiefling rogue. He has reddish skin and a tail that he’s cut out a hole for in his clothes. He has all black eyes without any whites to them, and purple hair that goes down to his shoulders. And he’s wearing brown leather clothes that look pretty worn, like he’s moved around a lot in them.”

“Excellent, well done,” Elliott said.

~~~

_Your race through the back alleyways of the merchant district of Bell’s Keep is one of desperation, for you can hear heavy padding behind you of the beast that you’re all trying desperately to stay just a few feet in front of. When you woke up this morning, none of you expected that you’d end up in this situation before the day was out._

_And it is that morning where we’ll start our story here today. You are all travelers, from across the land of Solarian, which stretches from the windswept, icy plains of the far north to the burning deserts of the east to the lush jungles of the south, and finally here, to the rocky but bountiful shores of the west. Though your reasons for coming to Bell’s Keep are individual to each of you, you find yourselves lodging at a reasonably priced inn not far from the merchant’s district, known as The Jolly Jackrabbit._

_When you –_

~~~

“Wait,” Sam said. “The _Jolly Jackrabbit?_ Are you serious?”

“You’d prefer the inn to be named something else?” Elliott asked.

“Yeah, anything’s better than The Jolly Jackrabbit,” Sam said. Sebastian shot him an irritated look.

“Very well,” Elliott said. “You find yourselves lodging at a reasonably priced inn not far from the merchant’s district, known as The Lazy Cock.”

Maru put her hands to her mouth, trying to quell the laughter that bubbled out. Becca didn’t even try, throwing her head back and laughing loudly. Sam turned a shade of red but shook his head in defeat. And Sebastian turned back to Elliott, grinning widely. 

~~~

_When you awake that morning, you can already hear the crowds gathering in the streets outside. All of you know that you’re expected to attend the services at one of the temples before the feasts begin. You don’t expect anyone to be still in the main room of the inn, where meals are served, when you make your way downstairs. And yet, you see your proprietress, a rather charming gnome by the name of Miss Nefi Frothelthimble, pacing about behind the bar and muttering worriedly to herself._

~~~

“Oh, dear. Oh, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear,” Elliott said, lifting his voice and twisting his face into an expression of worry. “No, this won’t do. It simply won’t do. I’ve got to – but no. Oh, dear. Oh, dear me.”

Sebastian found himself unable to take his eyes off Elliott. He had no notes in front of him but was still able to spin this story as though he’d had it memorized and was relaying it as naturally as breathing. It felt as though Elliott were embodying the little gnome woman in how his speech and mannerisms were pressed so tightly together.

_He’s amazing._

Over the next few hours, Elliott wove the adventure for his players, taking them from The Lazy Cock across the city to where Nefi’s order from Malandra’s Shop of Wonders had been held up and wasn’t going to be delivered, with Nefi unable to assist in providing food that afternoon. Their convergence on Malandra’s Shop of Wonders was shortly after several enforcers for the local cartel had arrived and were interrogating Malandra about the location of a particular map. Sebastian was worried at how much time the combat that ensued was taking, but Elliott seemed to have an infinite amount of patience, always able to gently remind what die needed to be rolled, or to offer suggestions about what abilities might be used.

Much to Sebastian’s surprise, Maru picked up the rules of combat quickly, and she was enthusiastic in casting holy spells and wielding Helga’s giant hammer. Between that and Darvin’s swordmastery and Lyra’s spells, the party managed to make quick work of the goons. Sebastian hadn’t rolled well, which stung a little bit, but Elliott had encouraged him to look around and see what in the shop he might make use of. It was then that Sebastian had been able to make a roll to see that Malandra was slipping away. Their pursuit of her into the basement, and confrontation as she aimed a crossbow at them, was high energy, with Elliott parrying particularly with Becca and Sebastian.

“Well, for goodness sakes, why didn’t you simply _say_ that you were here for Nefi? Honestly, young adventurers, always so terribly rude,” Elliott said, lowering an imaginary crossbow. His voice was proper, but closer to an upper class Ferngill accent than his own Pangolais. Sebastian was fascinated at how easily he seemed to slip into and out of accents and voices.

“To be fair, you’re the one who was pointing a weapon at us. That’s not exactly polite,” Becca said.

“And you smashed up my shop! Saints above, what a day,” Elliott said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Very well. Nefi’s order, but if I get this ready, promise me you’ll make one delivery for me on the way back to The Lazy Cock.”

As she had done every time the name of the inn was mentioned, Maru pressed her fist against her mouth to try and stifle her case of church giggles.

“And what’s that, the map those other fools were looking for?” Sebastian asked. The more he spoke in character as Therai, the more confident he felt. It was as though he could separate himself from his character. He’d never acted before, but this wasn’t like he had to memorize lines, he just had to react to what everybody else was saying. And with Elliott hamming it up as every character they encountered, that wasn’t hard.

“A clever one, aren’t you,” Elliott said, miming looking over a pair of imaginary glasses at Sebastian. “And handsome, to boot.” He looked back at the others. “Tell you what, either make the delivery or leave this one with me, and we’ll call it even.” A round of laughter broke across the table as Sebastian felt his cheeks burn. He knew Elliott was in character, but the idea of him staying with Elliott was more exciting than he thought it was going to be.

“We, uh, we actually need to bring him back with us,” Sam said. Of all of the players, Sam seemed the least comfortable speaking in character. “He’s the only one of us who can sneak anywhere worth a damn.”

“Pity,” Elliott sighed. “Ah, well.”

Elliott explained how Malandra removed a hidden panel from the wall and reached inside, pulling out a treasure map and instructing them where to go to make the dropoff. How she escorted them up the stairs with Nefi’s order of prime Calixtan mushrooms for her special roast boar, and saw them on their way.

“She waves at you and ducks back into her shop,” Elliott said. “Now, do any of you have any questions or anything you’d like to do before we continue?”

“I have a question,” Becca said, raising her hand. When Elliott looked to her, Becca lowered her hand and, barely concealing her grin, asked, “Were you intending to give Malandra the voice of Katharine Hepburn?”

Elliott remained stock-still for a moment. Then, without saying a word, he reached over, picked up one of the pyramid dice, and dropped it on the table. The number 2 was at the top. He looked to Becca and said, “As you step out of Malandra’s Shop of Wonders, a runaway cabbage cart plows into Lyra, knocking her to the ground. Take two points of damage.”

Becca cackled with glee, picking up her pencil and marking the damage on her sheet. “Totally worth it,” she said.

“Now,” Elliott said, but his sentence was cut off as there was a knock at the door. 

Sebastian furrowed his brows. “Sorry. One sec,” he said, getting up and moving to the door. He opened it to see Robin on the other side, smiling. “Yeah?” he asked, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“I don’t want to interrupt, but I’ve just finished making dinner, and you’re all certainly welcome to join us,” Robin said. “Or if you’d prefer, I can just leave it in the oven and you can have some after you’re done.”

Sebastian was about to protest that they were fine, when he heard Elliott speak up from behind him.

“Oh, that’s so kind of you,” he said. “I have to admit I’m a bit peckish, and this would be a good point for us to pause. If everyone else is fine with that?”

It suddenly hit Sebastian that Elliott had been so busy helping everyone with their characters and running the game that he hadn’t eaten anything in the entire time they had been playing. And he hadn’t thought to insist on it. Guilt ate at him. He was a terrible host. He nodded.

“Yeah. Um… thanks, mom,” he said. Robin smiled and made her way back upstairs. Behind Sebastian, everyone was rising from the table and stretching, wincing as their stiff legs and backs stretched out.

“I am always down for your mom’s cooking,” Sam said, quickly moving past Sebastian and up the stairs. He watched as Maru and then Becca followed.

As Elliott neared the door, Sebastian reached out and put a hand on his chest. Elliott looked at him curiously. Sebastian bit his lip and said, quietly, “I’m really sorry. I should have made sure you had something to eat.”

Elliott smiled. “It’s fine, I usually only eat twice a day as it is,” he said.

“And… I’m sorry I pulled away from you earlier,” Sebastian said. He looked up and Elliott could plainly see the shame in his eyes. “I… I didn’t want you to…”

Elliott reached up and placed a hand on Sebastian’s face, gently stroking his thumb along Sebastian’s cheekbone. “I’m not upset,” he said quietly. “I know this is all very new to you. Don’t fret.”

Sebastian leaned into the feeling, his eyes fluttering shut again. Yoba, how could Elliott make him feel like this just by touching him? His breath was catching in his throat. He opened his eyes again, looking up at Elliott.

There was that smile. That soft, kind, understanding smile, the one that made his blood feel electric and his spine feel like it was going to dissolve. Sebastian wanted to shut the door and stay here with Elliott and spill out everything from himself.

But then Elliott spoke. “Shall we?” he asked, motioning with his head up the stairs. Sebastian nodded and turned, disappointment curling around him as he moved up to follow his friends.

The room which might have been a formal dining area was used for Demetrius and Maru’s experiments, so Robin had expanded the kitchen to include room for a dining table. This was where the family and any guests they might have ate their meals. The table expanded out with one or sometimes two leaves added in to make more space. There were two empty chairs – next to each other, Sebastian was cheered to note – with plates of food in front of them.

“This looks absolutely delicious,” Elliott said as he took one of the free seats. “Thank you very much for the meal.”

“Oh, you’re quite welcome,” Robin said, smiling. “Are you all having fun?”

“So much fun,” Maru said, grinning. “Elliott’s really great at spinning a story.”

Sebastian looked sideways at Maru. He’d been surprised at how unannoying he’d found her during the game. But she’d thrown herself into it with gusto, adopting a northern accent when she spoke as Helga. Sam seemed like he was having fun, too. He was a little more reticent than everyone else to role-play as Darvin, but Sebastian could see the smiles on his face and how much he enjoyed the fighting sequences. Becca, of course, was almost as big a ham as Elliott, chewing the scenery as Lyra at every opportunity.

And then there was him. Sebastian had found slipping into Therai’s speech and mindset much easier than he’d thought. He was able to say things that he would normally keep hidden, for fear of upsetting anyone, because it wasn’t _him_ who was saying them. It felt freeing, in a way, to be able to speak like he was.

He looked down at his plate. Mom enjoyed making casseroles. They were easy to prepare ahead of time and she could heat them up when it was time for dinner. This was one of Sebastian’s favorites, a salmon and pike casserole in a leek sauce with crispy potatoes on the top. Even the kale wasn’t as gross as it normally was, cooked down in some lemon juice and serving as a barrier between the potatoes and the fish mixture. He looked next to him and was relieved to see Elliott seemed to be enjoying it as much as he was, chewing each bite carefully and sighing contentedly.

The conversation was pleasant enough. Sebastian was relieved to simply blend in, to not have anyone wanting to talk to him and ask him about what he was up to or if he had any plans or what he was going to do. Demetrius managed to ensnare Elliott in a discussion about the shells that had been washing up on the beach. Elliott was able to describe them in detail, down to the flecks of color that he’d seen, and Demetrius had launched into his usual over-explanation of what that meant for the creatures that had inhabited them and how they could determine water current patterns and blah blah blah but thankfully, Elliott seemed interested in the talk. Or at least he was very good at pretending to be interested.

On the other side of the table, Maru was running Robin through the adventure so far, with some contributions from Becca and occasionally Sam. At one point, Robin looked over at Sebastian and gave him a wider smile than he was used to seeing from her. He wasn’t sure what that was about. But for once, she and Demetrius and Maru weren’t looking at him like he was a curious specimen none of them had any idea of what to do with.

After everyone managed to completely polish off the casserole and a loaf of bread, they settled back, contentedly watching their stomachs bloat. Robin was the first to stand, picking up the casserole dish from the table.

“Well, you all go back to your game, we’ll take care of the dishes,” she said, giving Demetrius a knowing look.

“Are you sure? We could at least help clean up,” Becca offered.

“No, no, she’s right,” Demetrius said, moving to pick up a few plates. “We can manage. You all have fun.”

Sebastian wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. And he doubted Demetrius would be so generous with his time if Maru hadn’t been playing with them. He wiped at his mouth one last time before placing his napkin on the table. “Thanks, mom. It was great,” he said.

“It truly was. I can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal that delicious,” Elliott said. 

“Oh, you’re welcome any time you’d like to join us,” Robin said from the sink, where she was beginning to soak the casserole dish. “Now, scoot. You have a delivery to make.”

Elliott chuckled and followed Sebastian’s lead in standing. “Shall we, then?” he asked. Sebastian waited until Elliott started moving to begin walking back to the hallway leading to his room. They weren’t exactly side by side, but they weren’t apart.

~~~

_The betrayal of the guild stung, but not as much as your legs do, running through the alleys at all due speed. You know that The Lazy Cock is at least a district away, and with the crowds blocking off most of the main thoroughfares of Bell’s Keep, you’re going to have to make a decision: either run, or fight, or find some way to avoid detection from the enforcers and the hounds that they have chasing after you._

_Fighting your way out of the guild hall may have bought you some time, but it’s come at a cost. None of you truly feel at full strength and the constant running is causing you stress and exhaustion. You round a corner only to see yet another looming alley before you, with trash in its corners and the occasional reveler who imbibed a bit too much spiced wine passed out. You can hear the sound of the enforcers behind you getting closer. What are you going to do?_

~~~

Sebastian chewed on the end of his thumb. Therai wasn’t doing so hot. He’d lost about half his health in the fight to get out of the guild headquarters and Sebastian knew another couple of good hits would have him out for the count. Helga had healed them up as best she could, but Maru had despaired that she was out of her cure spells.

“Hey, I think I’ve got an idea.” Everyone turned to Sam. He moved his dice out into the center of the table. “So, if it’s an alley, there’s not a lot of room to move. But that means we might also be able to make a bottleneck.” He started moving his dice around on the table, showing how they could corner the enforcers with an explosion from Lyra. “If we can get some sort of protection on those of us on the front line…” he looked to Maru.

“I have a ward I could cast,” she said.

“Yeah, then those of us who fight hand to hand could probably take them out.” Sam looked up. “I think that’s our best bet. They’re going to chase us all the way to the inn if we keep running. If we fight, we can end this and don’t have to worry any longer.”

“That’s… not a bad plan at all,” Becca said, furrowing her brows at the dice on the table. “We’re going to need some luck, but we might be able to pull it off.”

“I say we do it,” Sebastian said. He looked over at Maru. “But I definitely need that ward, I’m pretty hurt.”

“I got you,” she said, picking up one of her dice and rolling it. “Sweet, that gives you a boost to avoid getting hit.”

“Excellent,” Elliott said. “Any other preparations you want to make, let me know. And then we’ll start when you’ve got it all set up.”

The players began negotiating who was standing where and what their first moves would be. As they talked, Sebastian could see Elliott watching them carefully, a small smile of pride on his face. The expression made his heart beat faster.

~~~

_The enforcers move carefully, seeming to be concerned that they don’t immediately see you. And then Lyra’s blast knocks some debris from the upper levels of the building above, raining down on them and causing them to yell and flail about. The hounds with them yelp and dart in the other direction, leaving the three enforcers cursing and drawing their weapons. As they move forward toward you, you all prepare to make your final stand. Get through this fight, and you’ve won the day._

~~~ 

Sebastian could feel a slight bead of sweat on the back of his neck. He had just barely succeeded on his attack with his daggers, and now Elliott was rolling to see if the enforcer he had just wounded was going to hit him as well.

Elliott cast the die behind the book. He looked up at Sebastian. “You said a fourteen is what hits you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, visibly deflating.

“Well, _normally,_ that would hit,” Elliott said, looking down at the 20 on the die. “But with Helga’s ward on you, you feel as though a gentle hand reaches onto your chest, pressing you back, keeping you just barely out of the range of his blade. He got a fifteen, and a sixteen would be enough to hit.”

Sebastian let out an anxious laugh of relief. “Thanks,” he said, looking at Maru with gratitude. She clicked her tongue and winked, shooting finger guns at him.

The rest of the battle proceeded apace, with Sam relishing his critical hit on one of the guards, Becca slinging spells to keep them at bay, and Maru and Sebastian managing to each take out one of the remaining guards. As the last die hit the table and the group let out a cheer at seeing the damage, Elliott smiled.

~~~

_The guards lie, groaning and severely battered, not able to cause you any more trouble. You turn and hurry along the alleyways, until the sights of the merchant district greet you. Stepping out and blending into the crowds that line the streets as much as possible, you proceed apace back to The Lazy Cock, where Nefi is overjoyed to see you with her mushrooms. Again, she promises your rent for the next week will be covered before moving back into the kitchen to begin her preparations for the feast._

_And with the inn almost empty, the four of you look at one another. The day certainly has not gone as you intended. You’ve fought and escaped the clutches of the builder’s guild, who clearly had a motive beyond that of what Malandra thought. And now you have a strange treasure map, indicating that a vast horde of wealth lies somewhere within the city limits. It would be enough for none of you to ever have to work another day of your lives. But if the guild is willing to kill to get that map, who knows what dangers lie in wait for any who would seek it out?_

_Regardless, there will be no more adventuring today. You’re all tired, and sore, but satisfied from a job well done. And as the beautiful smell of sizzling mushrooms fills the inn, your stomachs gurgle, and you know a magnificent feast awaits you tonight._

~~~

“And that is where we will end for today,” Elliott said, the smile never leaving his mouth. “Did you all have fun?”

“ _So_ much fun,” Becca said, leaning back in her beanbag. “Oh, man, that was awesome.”

“Please tell me we’re going to keep playing this,” Maru said, leaning forward and eyes shining behind her glasses. “I so want to find out what that treasure is!”

“Absolutely, as long as you’re all up for it,” Elliott said, pulling his bag out and starting to place the dice back inside. “I don’t know if I’d be able to run this every week, per se, but perhaps every other week, or every third week, depending on our availability?”

“That would be awesome. Thanks so much, Elliott,” Sam said.

“Yes, thank you,” Becca said. “I hope you don’t hate me for being a pain in the ass.”

“Rebecca Hwang, you are the bane of my existence entire,” Elliott said.

“Oh, good,” Becca said, leaning over and giving Elliott a hug. He laughed and patted her back.

Sebastian sat, quiet but smiling. He felt… happy. This had been so much fun, and he’d felt like he accomplished a lot as Therai. More than he usually could accomplish as Sebastian. And spending time with Elliott and Sam and Becca – and even Maru – was really nice. It was something more than he usually did.

“I can… we can keep meeting here,” he said. “If that’s okay with everyone.”

“If your mother keeps feeding us like that, I might move in and become your family’s housekeeper,” Elliott said.

Maru laughed. “If she hears you say that, she might take you up on it,” she said, starting to stand and stretching her arms over her head. “Anyway, I’ve got to get back upstairs and get some work done, but thanks so much, Elliott. And thanks for putting this together, Seb. I had a great time.”

“Yeah, I’ve got to get home and feed Rex,” Becca said, standing as well. “But please, tell me when we’re doing this again. I’ll clear my schedule.”

Elliott collected the character sheets and placed them with his other papers before Maru and Sam and Becca said their goodbyes. Sebastian remained seated next to Elliott, quietly helping him put his things together.

“Did you have a good time?” Elliott asked him.

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, looking up. He could feel the soft smile on his face. “I – that was way, way better than the board game. Thank you.” He leaned over, hugging Elliott.

Elliott smiled and hugged Sebastian back, rubbing his shoulder. “I’m very glad,” he said. “So now can you see where this was how I got the bug for telling stories?”

“Got to admit, I had my doubts, but you’re a natural,” Sebastian said, smiling up at Elliott. “I mean, I felt like I was actually there. I don’t know how you did it.”

“A lot of practice,” Elliott said, tucking Sebastian into his arms. He let out a satisfied breath. “It feels lovely to spend this time with you, you know. I’d never seen your home before, and your family’s quite nice.”

Sebastian was quiet. _Maybe a little too nice. Wait until they start asking you about what your plans for the future are._ “I’m glad,” he said. He gave Elliott a squeeze. “Are you sure you’re okay walking all the way back to the beach? We have a guest room if you want to stay the night,” he said.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t impose,” Elliott said, patting Sebastian’s back once more before extracting himself and finishing his cleanup. “Besides, I have my umbrella. I’ll be just fine.”

Sebastian knew he shouldn’t be disappointed. Elliott always hated to be a bother. But he imagined what waking up in the morning and going upstairs to see Elliott there, eating breakfast, conversing with the other members of his family would be like. _If I can’t have you, maybe I could at least pretend._ He managed a smile and said, “Okay. At least let me walk you out, then.”

“I insist on it,” Elliott said, picking up his tote bag and standing. He reached out a hand to help Sebastian up. Sebastian felt the same shiver run through him at the skin-to-skin contact, and how warm and soft Elliott’s hand was in his. He led Elliott up the stairs and through the now darker main floor of the house. It was while Elliott was picking up his umbrella that Sebastian suddenly realized what he should do.

“Hey, uh,” he began. Elliott turned to look at him. Sebastian suddenly felt a slight grip of anxiety. “I don’t know if you have any plans for Saturday, but if you’re free, um, Sam and Abby and I are playing a show in Zuzu City. There’s going to be a bus that takes us and anyone from town, so you’d just need to pay for the ticket to the show. If you’re free and you don’t have anything else –”

“Well, of course I’ll be there!” Elliott said, smiling widely. “Thank you so much for the invitation, I’d love to go!”

Sebastian felt the smile coming back to his face. “Great! Great,” he said, trying to push the note of over-enthusiasm out of his voice. “The bus should be leaving around three, show’s at six. We’ll probably be back in town around nine. Does that work?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” Elliott said, moving closer to him. He placed a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “I’m so excited for this. I’ve wanted to hear you play something. I should have asked you the day you tuned my piano.”

“I don’t think I’m as good as you,” Sebastian mumbled, trying to avoid the flush that he knew was creeping up his face at Elliott’s attention.

“It’s not about who’s better than who,” Elliott said. “It’s about doing your best, and being proud of what you accomplish.” He smiled at Sebastian. “And I can’t wait to see you play.” He picked up his umbrella and looked to Sebastian. “If I don’t see you before then, I will most definitely see you Saturday.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great,” Sebastian said. He opened the door for Elliott. The rain wasn’t as constant as it was earlier, but it looked like it would keep raining through the night. Elliott pulled him into one more hug before opening his umbrella and stepping out into the night. Sebastian watched from the front door as Elliott began moving away from the house and back down the mountain toward town. The mist of the rain made him fade from a clear presence into a hazy figure, but Sebastian didn’t close the door until Elliott had disappeared completely into the night.

He leaned against the door, letting out a long, shaky breath. Before he could stop himself, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Opening his message thread with Sam, he quickly sent off a text.

_I changed my mind. I’ll take lead and sing on a song at the show. We can figure out which one later._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry that the chapter was up a few hours later than normal – this one ballooned completely out of control and ended up being 35 pages, much longer than I usually write in a chapter length. I normally finish on Thursday and then can go through and proofread before posting at midnight, right as it turns to Friday, but I still had a couple of scenes left to finish when I went to bed last night. I had a lot of fun with the adventure in Solarian and I hope you did as well. We might see some more RP sessions in the future if the story calls for it. And if you’re interested in the fish casserole dish Robin made, I based it off of [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ds1Jb8H5Sg8) amazing recipe, which I’ve made a couple of times and which is always a huge hit.
> 
> Next time, we’ll see the show in Zuzu City! How will Sebastian handle the pressure of performing in front of a crowd that includes his crush? Will Elliott also get all of the feels from watching Sebastian play? How much longer can I drag out this slow burn? (Answer: probably at least a few chapters) Thank you all so much for reading and the wonderful comments and feedback you’ve been leaving. This story has brought me a lot of joy so far, especially in seeing how you’re all responding to it. I’ll see you next week, guys!


	6. Notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I listened to while writing this chapter was “Dreaming of You” by Selena, found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wlfOIksGEqc).

“If music be the food of love, play on.”  
-William Shakespeare

Sebastian gritted his teeth as he lifted the bass drum into the bus cargo hold. He wasn’t sure how he ended up being the only one who was moving the instruments. Abby said she had to return her dad’s Jeep to the store. Sam had gone with her to pick up some snacks for them for the road. That had been forty minutes ago. Sebastian was tired of waiting around. He had things he wanted to do before they left, but he knew Sam and Abby would flip if he just left the instruments sitting there.

“Your friends suck, kid,” Pam said, sitting on the steps leading up to the bus. She seemed content to watch him move the instruments without lending a helping hand. Part of Sebastian wanted to snap back a reply about how he at least had friends and wasn’t drinking his life away. But antagonizing the person responsible for driving him safely to Zuzu City didn’t seem like a great idea.

Besides that, Pam was right. Now at least, Sam and Abby did suck. Sebastian climbed into the cargo hold and started securing the drum set. That was the thing that was going to cause the most trouble if it got loose. His keyboard was easy enough. It had a case and stand and wasn’t going to come to any danger. But Sam would have a complete meltdown if anything happened to his axe.

This was not a promising start to their day. He was already tired, and he knew it was going to be a long ride into the city, an intense show, and then a long ride back. He hadn’t performed in front of a crowd since high school, and then he had only been in choir. Nobody was looking at him individually like they would today. And he’d volunteered to sing and take lead.

Sebastian didn’t crave the spotlight the way Sam did. Sam thrived as the center of attention. It was why he made a good frontman. That and the fact that he was hands down the best singer of the bunch. This whole band had been Sam’s idea. He’d been telling Sebastian for years that they should put a band together. His ideas for what music they’d play had shifted like crazy over the years, as had the name of the group. When Sam told Sebastian he had an idea for them to play twangy country music and that they could call themselves The Alfalfas, Sebastian had gotten up and walked out of Sam’s house without a word.

Ultimately, upbeat dance music with a bit of an edge seemed to fit them best. They had a few original songs, but most of what they did were covers. None of them really had an ear for writing lyrics. _Elliott could probably come up with something great._ It wasn’t the first time he’d had the thought. But the idea of asking Elliott to write lyrics for them made Sebastian slightly queasy. Even the idea of Elliott coming to see them play made him queasy.

Sebastian had a talent for thinking of the worst possible outcome of any situation. He couldn’t help it. It was as natural to him as breathing. And after Elliott had left his house last week and he’d told Sam he would take lead on a song, the worst scenario kept playing in his head. The worst thing wouldn’t be if Elliott hated their music. The worst thing that could happen would be if he looked out into the crowd and saw Elliott leaning against the wall, looking uncomfortable the whole night. That he was only there out of obligation, that he hadn’t really meant that he would love to hear them play. He doubted Elliott listened to anything other than classical music, and that was about as far from Sebastian’s tastes as he could imagine.

He’d texted Elliott a few times. The first time, his heart had almost stopped from pounding so hard. All he’d asked was “Doing anything fun?” In the near hour it took Elliott to reply, Sebastian had died a thousand deaths. He was about to give up when his phone had beeped. The response was long, but Sebastian had read it enough times where he practically had it memorized.

_I wouldn't necessarily say fun, but I did accomplish a long writing session. My apologies for not seeing your text earlier. I tend to keep my phone away when I write so I’m not distracted. It’s a beautiful evening here on the beach. I think I might go out and see if there are any interesting shells. You’d be more than welcome to join me, if you like. Assuming it isn’t too late, of course. Would you?_

Sebastian had demurred. Lied that he had a big project he was working on and couldn’t get away. He didn’t know why. No. That was another lie. He knew _exactly_ why. Because he didn’t trust himself not to ask Elliott if he could spend the night at his cabin. And he couldn’t bear the thought of Elliott gently reassuring him that this wouldn’t be a good idea, that they were still getting to know each other, that he didn’t want to ruin their friendship. 

Sebastian wrangled the snare drum into the hold as he thought back, yet again, to the night of the Egg Festival. The night he’d gone home with Elliott, fixed his piano, listened to Elliott play, and then fallen asleep in Elliott’s arms. There were days he wasn’t able to think of anything else. Elliott was consuming his every thought. Unless he was hyper-focused for work or toking up to take the edge off, he was thinking about Elliott.

And he’d found the more he thought about Elliott, the less jagged the edge seemed to be. The less it felt like things were cutting into him, that he was feeling the pinch and poke and razor’s edge of whatever was around him. Their texting had taken the place of him feeling like he needed to see Elliott every day. He was able to talk to Elliott without one of them having to make the long hike between the mountain and the beach.

And Elliott was just as kind and gentle over text as he was in person. The night before, in frustration, Sebastian had texted Elliott a series of exclamation marks in a row. He’d put his phone down and put his hands to his face, not expecting much in the way of a response. But then it came in.

_Oh, dear. That doesn’t sound good. What’s wrong? Is there anything I can help with?_

Elliott always texted in full sentences and with proper grammar. And he had to do so on that tiny flip phone. Sebastian had learned to wait a few minutes between texts for a response.

_**I’m scared. I’m worried about the show. I haven’t done this before. I’m going to fuck up and it’s going to be my fault we don’t get booked again.** _

_There’s no way of telling that, Sebastian. And the more you think about it, the likelier it will be a self-fulfilling prophecy. But I know what it’s like to be anxious about being in front of a crowd. I almost threw up from nerves the first time I had to do a reading. It’s an awful feeling. I’m sorry you’re feeling that way. Can I help at all?_

_**Just talking to you is helping. You always know what to say.** _

_That is what I allegedly get paid for. Would you like to talk on the phone? Or I could meet you somewhere in town if you’d rather speak in person._

_**I shouldn’t, it’s already late. I might wake someone up if they hear me talking. And I don’t want you to have to walk to meet me.** _

_Of course. I didn’t quite realize the time. I’ve been writing for hours. I should let you get some sleep. You have a big day tomorrow. And I can’t wait to see you play._

_**I hope I don’t disappoint.** _

_Nothing about you could ever disappoint me, Sebastian. Sleep well._

Somehow, he had. That last message had lulled him to a restful sleep, even as it simultaneously made an entire flock of butterflies emerge in his stomach.

Sebastian finished loading up the keyboard and strapping it in with one of the cords attached to the side of the cargo hold. Sam’s guitar was similarly strapped across the opposite side of the hold. The band they were opening for was providing amps and the venue had their light show set up and ready to go. So they were ready. Mostly. Mostly ready.

Sebastian sat down on the side of the bus and let out a long breath. He heard a throaty chuckle and looked up.

“Gotta hand it to you, I didn’t think you’d manage on your own,” Pam said.

“You could’ve offered to help,” Sebastian grumbled.

“I’m getting paid to drive this baby, not load or unload anything,” she retorted. “You want roadies, you’re gonna need to hit it big first.”

Sebastian leaned his head back against the bus. His nerves were shot. He desperately wanted a cigarette, but he didn’t dare light up now. His voice would be wrecked. He’d have to wait until after the show. He let out a long breath through his nose. Without looking back to Pam, he asked, “If we close this up now, nobody can get into or out of it until we get to Zuzu, right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “So if you’re done, we’ll shut it.”

“Great,” Sebastian said, standing up. Pam got up from her seat on the steps and moved over to where he was standing. They reached up and both pushed down on the raising panel on the side of the bus. After it was closed, Pam moved over and flipped a couple of latches closed. She glanced back to Sebastian.

“You gonna hang out here or go kick the crap out of your friends?” she asked.

Despite himself, Sebastian felt a smirk coming to his face. Pam was a pain in the ass, but she had a way of speaking bluntly that he could appreciate. She never hid criticism in pretty, poisonous words like so many others in town did. If Pam liked you, you knew about it. If she _didn’t_ like you, you knew even more about it.

“Neither,” he said, pushing off from the bus. “I’ll be back by three. Don’t leave without me.”

“I’ll send up smoke signals if you aren’t here by 2:45,” Pam said.

The walk from the bus stop into town didn’t take long. It was about half a mile from Amethyst Farm to the square, and thankfully the day was a little overcast. Sebastian had left his hoodie at home. His outfit for the show was in the duffel bag that Sam was taking everywhere with him. He had to admit, the spring breeze felt nice on his bare forearms.

But this weather wasn’t going to last. It never did. It was only a few weeks away from the worst festival of the year, and after the Flower Dance, the temperature always ended up soaring. Even with the air conditioning and down in his room, Sebastian still found summers in Stardew Valley unbearable. It was almost impossible to breathe. He hardly ever went out, except after the sun went down and he no longer felt like his skin was going to melt off his bones.

Sebastian turned right at the square and headed south. He was moving quicker than he usually would. His head was pounding. He could feel the urge to smoke scratching at him. He had his pack and lighter in his pocket. He knew Sam would be furious if he found out Sebastian smoked before a show. And he’d be furious with himself, too. This meant so much to Sam. It meant something to him, but the band was Sam’s baby. He couldn’t do anything that might wreck this. It was their biggest break yet.

There was only one thing he knew was going to take the edge off before the show. And as he crossed the bridge to the beach and saw the shack before him, he could already feel his nerves start to smooth out. He made his way across the sand as fast as his heavy boots would let him, then knocked at the door. It was too loud, he knew as soon as his knuckles started to rap.

Sebastian heard a yelp of surprise from inside. Then the scraping of a chair. “Just a minute!” came Elliott’s voice. Footsteps heading to the door, then the sound of the bolt turning.

Elliott’s face brightened as he opened the door and saw Sebastian standing there.

“Hello, what a pleasant surpr –” Elliott’s face suddenly turned to fear and he looked to his watch. “Yoba, it’s not three already, is it? I didn’t…”

“No, no,” Sebastian said, laughing quietly. “It’s barely 1:30. I just – I was hoping I could see you. Before we left.”

Elliott exhaled in relief and leaned against the doorframe, opening the door wider. “Of course. You almost took five years off my life, you know,” he said, sliding back so Sebastian could enter.

Sebastian stepped through the door. As soon as Elliott closed it behind him, his arms were around Elliott and he was resting his head against Elliott’s chest. Elliott let out a small murmur somewhere between contentment and surprise and leaned against Sebastian, tucking the smaller man into his embrace. He gently kissed the crown of Sebastian’s head.

“Are you anxious?” he asked gently.

“Super fucking anxious,” Sebastian admitted, letting out a long, shuddering breath. “Like, I… I know how much we’ve been rehearsing, but I’m just – I don’t want to fuck it up. This means so much to Sam and we’ve been getting ready for this for a long time, and we’ve never had a break like this, and…”

“Shhh,” Elliott said, gently rubbing Sebastian’s back. Sebastian felt his nerves and racing mind settle. The sensation he always got when near Elliott was coming back. The warmth around his joints and in his chest, the calming sensation from Elliott’s smell. Sebastian closed his eyes and nuzzled closer against Elliott.

“Can we lie down for a little bit, please?” he asked, voice quiet. “Please, I just… you always make me feel calm.”

“Of course,” Elliott said, pulling back slightly and smiling down at Sebastian. Sebastian found himself smiling back without even thinking about it. Elliott took his hand and led him once more over to the bed. They settled in, much more naturally than they had the first time. Sebastian found himself resting in Elliott’s arms and tucking his head into the crook of Elliott’s neck. He felt able to breathe. He closed his eyes again and nuzzled against Elliott.

A month ago, if anyone had told him he would seek out the comfort of lying in another man’s bed, in his arms, and that it would be the most comfortable he ever felt in his life, he would have looked at that person with complete disbelief, if not outright disdain. And yet, here he was. He adjusted his legs so that they were intertwined with Elliott’s and brought their chests together. And then he breathed out, content at last.

Elliott was stroking his hair with one hand and his back with the other. They lay in silence for a moment. “Would talking about anything help, or do you just want to be still?” Elliott asked quietly.

Sebastian didn’t respond immediately. His brain couldn’t focus on anything other than his breathing. Finally, he asked, “Could you just… talk to me? You – when I hear you talk, it’s…”

“Of course,” Elliott said. His fingers felt so good on the back of Sebastian’s head, stroking his hair and scalp. He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of Sebastian this close to him. “You know, this is going to be my first time back in Zuzu City since I left. I haven’t been outside of Pelican Town in close to two years.” He left a slight pause if Sebastian wanted to reply. When there was no response, Elliott continued.

~~~

_I lived not far from campus, in the downtown area. I was in an apartment building that rose up above much of the cityscape, and I could see quite a lot from my balcony. When the weather was nice and the sky was clear, anyway. The neighbor to my left had a beautiful gray cat who she always let out on the balcony. I was terrified for the poor thing the first time I saw her. We were on the twelfth floor. But she never even went up onto the ledge. She was content just to sit on one of the chairs and look at whatever birds might be flying by. Her name was Esther. A terrible name for a cat, but somehow it fit her._

_I never had a pet of my own growing up. But sometimes I would sit out on the balcony and talk to Esther if I had a story idea I was trying to work out. It’s funny, I always thought I was more of a dog person, but Esther was such a good listener. She listened to me while I was stressing over “The Indigo Stain.” I actually worked out that Belinda was going to die by talking to Esther. Sometimes I felt like she was the only one who wouldn’t judge me when I talked about my work._

_Leah didn’t live far from me when she lived in Zuzu. She was in a program that wasn’t as long as mine, and when she graduated, she left. But I enjoyed going over to her apartment, or having her over to mine. I think we both liked meeting out elsewhere best. There were bars and restaurants we and our other friends would go to, places with the most exquisite food and wine. Don’t get me wrong, I quite like the saloon, Gus is a wonderful cook. But I do miss the variety of restaurants. There was a small bistro we would go to where they would serve something called marshmallow soup._

~~~

“That might be the grossest thing I’ve ever heard,” Sebastian mumbled against Elliott.

Elliott laughed quietly. “It didn’t actually have marshmallows,” he said. “It was a carrot and tomato bisque that had small cheese souffle bites floating in it. They looked just like marshmallows, hence the name.”

~~~

_And their desserts, oh, they were so marvelous. I had a plum tarte tatin once with house-made caramel ice cream and it almost made me weep. A meal there, with a glass of white wine, and good company, that was one of my favorite ways to spend an evening._

_Sometimes we would go out and see some of the museums, or go to a play, or the shops nearby. There was a wonderful promenade near the river and I would pick up lotion or body wash or shampoo at one of the specialty stores there. And sometimes, if we were being truly indulgent, we’d go to a club that I loved which had a live band playing for karaoke. My friends in the program and I would egg each other on to do literary karaoke, where we had to pick an author and dedicate a song to him or her. And it had to fit their work. You know, things you do when you’re in a graduate program overeducating yourself out of the possibility of gainful employment._

_I didn’t have a car. I didn’t need one. And you know, when you move from overseas, they don’t accept a Pangolais driver’s license. I would have had to get one in Ferngill. And that would mean learning to drive on the right instead of the left. But the subway and the trains were good enough where I didn’t need it. And sometimes I just liked to walk through the city and find myself getting lost in the crowd. There’s something magical about looking around and realizing that everyone near you is on his or her own way to a destination that you know nothing about. That everyone around you has hopes and dreams and fears and that you might never see any of them ever again or learn about any of them. It’s a feeling of melancholy but also of such deep connection to humanity._

~~~

Sebastian’s nervous energy had completely waned by this point. Elliott was still stroking his hair and he felt completely at ease. Elliott had moved closer to his ear.

“Someday,” he said softly into Sebastian’s ear, “I would love to take you to Zuzu City. Just the two of us. And show you what it meant to me. There is nothing quite like sharing a place that means so much to you with someone who means so much to you.”

Sebastian’s heart felt like it might explode. A sudden rush of emotion surged through him. He pulled back slightly, looking into Elliott’s eyes. “What do you mean?” he asked quietly.

Elliott moved his hand to Sebastian’s cheek, gently stroking it. “You are incredibly special to me,” he said, his voice still soft. “You’ve inspired me to write. You’ve been a wonderful friend. And I cherish our time together. I don’t –” he paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. “I don’t usually make friends this fast. But something about being near you just feels so natural. It feels right. Sometimes I find it hard to remember that we didn’t speak much until a month and a half ago. You’ve become very important to me in a very short amount of time.”

Sebastian wanted to come up with something as meaningful to say, to tell Elliott how important he was, how Sebastian craved being around him. How he thought about Elliott all day and dreamed about him all night. How in his fantasies, he dreamed about touching every part of Elliott and feeling his body and their lips meeting and sharing deep, passionate kisses. But words weren’t his thing. They never were. The desires in his head were concrete, he felt them as acutely as if they were part of him and had always been there. But trying to put words to them was impossible. He wished, not for the first time, that words could flow from him as easily and beautifully as they did from Elliott.

But he had to say something. He buried his face back into Elliott’s neck and managed to get out, “You’re going to make my heart poop its pants.”

Elliott rolled back onto the bed and roared with laughter. Sebastian was outright startled, at first thinking Elliott was angry. He was almost as surprised to see the contortions on Elliott’s face, how his cheeks and neck were turning red with the force of his laughter. Elliott finally put a hand over his mouth, as though that would stop the hysterical guffawing. Sebastian had always thought of Elliott as an elegant laugher. The way he usually laughed seemed so polished and refined, how an aristocrat would laugh at something so very, very droll.

This complete loss of control was something Sebastian had never seen from Elliott, and once the surprise waned, he found it somehow made his heart pound even harder. Even when he’d seen Elliott drunk, it was as though there was always a slight mask over the writer, a mask of politeness and correctness that he always kept up. Now the mask was gone and he was seeing straight through to Elliott’s core, the part he never showed to anyone.

Elliott finally managed to get his laughter under control and Sebastian could see how it had left tears in his eyes. He wiped them away and let a few last chortles out. He turned to Sebastian, eyes soft and slightly red from the exertion and tears. “Oh, my. Oh, I needed that,” he said. A few giggles escaped him and he took Sebastian’s hand, bringing it to his lips. He kissed the back of Sebastian’s knuckles, which sent another spark coursing through him.

“Two things I have to say about that sentiment,” he said. “First, I am absolutely stealing that line for a future story.” Sebastian managed a laugh at that. “And second,” Elliott said, his eyes softening with sincerity, “that might actually be one of the most meaningful compliments I’ve ever gotten.” He kissed Sebastian’s hand again. “So, would you let me take you to Zuzu City someday? Just us?”

Sebastian nodded. He almost felt as if it were someone else’s head moving. “Yeah,” he said, his voice quiet. “Yeah. I – I would really love that.”

Elliott’s smile widened. “Wonderful,” he said, pulling Sebastian close to him once more. He let out a slight sigh. “I wish I could take you away as soon as possible. When it’s feasible, when money allows, I’ll treat you just how you deserve to be treated.”

“You’re making it sound like I’m your boyfriend,” Sebastian murmured, hoping there wasn’t too obvious a note of hope in his voice.

“I’m allowed to treat people dear to me well, no matter what the nature of our relationship is,” Elliott said, brushing a few strands of hair back from Sebastian’s forehead. “And I should be so lucky to have you as my boyfriend.”

Sebastian’s heart almost stopped. This was it. This was the moment, the signal he’d been waiting for. His mouth and throat felt dry. He didn’t know whether to say something or do something or just lean in and kiss Elliott already. He opened his mouth. “I…”

And then, music blasted from his pocket. _“I see a red door and I want to paint it, bla-ack.”_

Sebastian closed his eyes and let out a long, frustrated hiss of a breath. He pulled his phone out and saw _SAM_ on the caller ID. 

_Samson, I am going to fucking kill you._

“I’m so sorry. It’s Sam,” he said. Elliott nodded and drew back slightly as Sebastian sat up and answered. “What?” he asked.

“Dude, where are you? I thought you were going to watch the stuff until we got back,” Sam said.

“It’s secure in the hold already. Not that you, or Abby, or Pam helped with that,” Sebastian said. “I got it in and it’s locked up.”

“Oh. Oh, cool!” Sam had the audacity to sound cheerful. “Well, get back here. Almost everybody’s here, we’re going to leave as soon as you get back.”

“It’s only –” Sebastian pulled his phone away and clicked the side button for the screen to light up. “It’s only ten past two, we weren’t going to leave until three.”

“Yeah, well, you know what traffic is like going into Zuzu. I don’t want to be late,” Sam said.

Sebastian wanted desperately to tell Sam to piss off, that he’d be there at three, that he’d earned a few minutes rest. A few minutes that he would be able to spend with Elliott. But he knew, deep down, Sam was right. They should get going. It was going to suck bad if they got stuck in rush hour and didn’t make their own opening set.

“Fine. Give me fifteen minutes, I’ll be there,” Sebastian said. “And when we get to the club, you two are unloading everything.” He hung up and let out a long breath.

Elliott sat up and put his arm around Sebastian. “I don’t think you’re the only one nerves are getting to,” he said gently.

“No, you’re right,” Sebastian admitted. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. “Sam is my best friend. I love him like the brother I never had. He knows more about me than anyone else on the planet,” he said. He opened his eyes and looked at Elliott. “And I want to kill him on a daily basis.”

Elliott chuckled again. “I can’t speak to that, I’m an only child,” he said. He squeezed Sebastian and slowly shifted out of bed. “Shall we go, then?” He held out a hand. Sebastian looked up at him and managed a smile, taking the hand.

He wasn’t completely sure, but the way Elliott helped him up, it almost felt as though the writer were gently running a finger across the inside of his wrist. The sensation made him shiver involuntarily.

~~~

Pelican Town sat at the southern edge of Stardew Valley, one of the smallest and least wealthy provinces of the Ferngill Republic. The boundary between Stardew Valley and Zuzu Province was the Calico Desert, a hot, miserable patch of land that Sebastian was grateful he didn’t have to get out in. He couldn’t understand how the desert always managed to be hot and dry year-round, when both Zuzu and Stardew Valley got regular rain and had four distinct seasons. He’d made the mistake once of mentioning that on a drive the family was taking, and Demetrius had taken the opportunity to lecture on how the Grampleton Mountains formed a rain shadow that created a unique biosphere within the desert until Sebastian’s eyes had nearly fallen out of their sockets.

Past the desert, the highway opened up into four lanes, more than were found on any road in Stardew Valley. As beautiful as his province could be, there was no doubt it relied heavily on support from the republic as a whole. It was hard sometimes to believe that Zuzu was right next door, and that Zuzu City, one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the entire republic, was a mere hour and a half drive from quiet, sleepy Pelican Town.

As the bus crested the last hill outside of Zuzu City, a buzz of excitement went up through the van. It wasn’t quite dark yet, but the lights of the city were already aglow, the buildings stretching up toward the sky and pocked with yellow lights. Zuzu City stretched out in every direction, from the tall buildings and bright lights of downtown to the quieter suburbs on the outskirts. The Zuzu River wound through downtown, certainly less wild than it once did with the dam that now harnessed it for electricity, but still majestic. Cars passed the bus going in either direction, but thankfully they seemed to have avoided the worst of the evening traffic, and the bus exited the highway without much trouble.

Sebastian found himself looking out at the city lights around them, hearing the noise, feeling the rush of traffic, of energy, of _people_ everywhere. He’d never lived anywhere like Zuzu City before. Before living in Pelican Town, he and his family had lived in Grampleton, the provincial capital of Stardew Valley. Grampleton was much larger than Pelican Town, but it was easily dwarfed by Zuzu City. Here in Zuzu, he could see department stores and shops and restaurants and high-rise apartments and – everything he didn’t have at home. His gaze landed on a crowd of people, and he thought back to what Elliott had said earlier.

_Sometimes I just liked to walk and find myself getting lost in the crowd._

On the opposite side of the bus, sitting next to Leah, Elliott found himself with a bittersweet sensation of homecoming. The last time he had been in Zuzu City, he had been nursing a broken heart from how James had been as he left. He had been trying to get a ridiculous number of boxes on the train. He had been fearful of what the future meant. Now back home, memories were starting to drift up, of times when things hadn’t been so bad with James, about places they had been together, sights and sounds and tastes they had experienced. Times he had spent with Leah and his other friends. How the world seemed to be at his fingertips, and how all he had to do was reach out and grasp it.

He felt a squeeze on his hand and looked over. Leah was smiling sadly at him, and he knew she had to be thinking much the same. He let out a slight breath and squeezed her hand back. “We’re both better off now, starling,” he said quietly.

“I know,” she said, voice just as quiet. “Still…”

Elliott nodded. “I miss it, too.”

He missed this place. He missed the buzz, the excitement, the options, the crowds. He even missed the confusion about how everything was named the same. Zuzu, after Princess Zuzana, the crown princess, the eldest child of the King and Queen of Pangolais at the time its explorers first sailed to the new continent and established their colonies. How it had taken mum and dad a solid six months to understand that he’d flown into Zuzu International Airport to attend Zuzu State University, which was in Zuzu City, capital of Zuzu Province. He never thought the Z and U keys on his computer would get so much use.

The bus pulled up in front of the club where the concert was being held. It wasn’t the largest venue in the city, but it was certainly respectable. Elliott had been a few times to concerts here and knew that the sort of groups who played were up-and-comers, ones who’d charted a few hits and were on their way to superstardom. The openers were bands who were taking this opportunity to get out there. Some of them were great. Others made him wish he’d stalled a little in getting to the club.

Pam pulled up outside the club entrance and everyone except the band got off, wishing them well and more broken legs than they had between them. Sebastian watched as Elliott moved with the rest of the group to the entrance, standing in line to purchase tickets. Pam drove around to the back of the club and pulled into one of the bus parking spaces, eventually coming to a complete stop.

“All ashore who’s going ashore,” she said, leaning back in her seat and switching the radio to the classic rock station. “Have fun, kids. And if anyone throws their panties at you, don’t pick ‘em up. You don’t know where they been.”

~~~

Sebastian had scoped out the stage and the venue ahead of time. He knew the dimensions. Standing room for a thousand spectators, five hundred more seats in the back. They were the opening act. Not everybody who was coming to the show would be there, but there was going to be enough of a crowd that it was still easily the largest group he’d ever played in front of.

He’d changed into his leather jacket and fixed his hair a few times. It didn’t really matter that nobody was going to really see him from that distance. It had helped to calm his nerves. He watched as the clock kept ticking toward six o’clock, the knot in his stomach pulling tighter all the while.

At least he was able to keep his nerves under control. Sam was pacing back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, pulling anxiously at his fingers. He’d had that habit ever since they were kids. It was funny how much Sam hated the sound of knuckles cracking when that was basically what he was doing.

“Guys, chill,” Abby finally said. “It’s eight songs. Forty-five minutes. We’ve been running through this forever and a day. It’s gonna go great. Just go out and kill it.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one who’s got to sing,” Sam said, finally sitting on the couch in their dressing room. They didn’t have anywhere near as much space as The Cosmonauts, the band they were opening for, but it was clean, and Sam was able to bring his axe in and tune a few chords. Sam let his head fall back against the couch and he breathed out as long a breath as Sebastian had ever heard.

“I mean, she’s right, you know,” Sebastian said. “It’s just one song at a time.” Sam nodded his head back and forth, but Sebastian could tell he was starting to get ramped up. The last thing they needed was a manic Sam out there, a couple beats ahead of the rest of them. Sebastian let out a breath and got up, moving over to sit next to Sam on the couch.

Sam opened his eyes, looking over to Sebastian with surprise as Sebastian put an arm around his shoulders. “You’ve got this,” Sebastian said quietly. “There’s nobody I know who wants this more than you. This is what you’ve working for since we were in high school. It’s gonna be over before you know it. One song at a time.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. He nodded again, a little more intently this time. “One song at a time.”

“And you only have to sing for seven of ‘em,” Abby piped up.

Sebastian grimaced. “Remind me why I agreed to do that again?”

“Because you want to have mercy on my throat?” Sam asked.

Sebastian and Abigail looked up at each other, the same grin sliding across both their faces. Sam suddenly realized what he’d just said and turned scarlet.

“Gross!” he yelled, getting up. “You guys are so fucking gross.”

“I hear spunk’s good for the vocal chords,” Abby said. “Seb, you gonna help him out?”

“If I must,” Sebastian said, making a show of unzipping his fly.

“I hate you guys so much,” Sam said, turning so Abby and Sebastian couldn’t see the smile he was trying desperately to keep off his face.

A quick knock on the door got all three’s attention. A stagehand opened it, looking in and saying, “Xenon Chip 3.0, you’re on in five minutes. We need you at stage left.”

“Great, thanks,” Abby said, standing up. Sam moved over to pick up his guitar and sling it across his chest. Sebastian’s keyboard and Abby’s drums were already set up on stage.

“Hey, guys,” Sam said. Abigail and Sebastian turned to look at him. Sam glanced down at the floor, then back up. “Thanks,” he said. “Just… thanks.”

Sebastian reached over and clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Let’s do this,” he said.

“Hey, Seb?” Abby asked. Sebastian turned to her. She cleared her throat. He furrowed his brow. She let out a sigh. “XYZ.”

Sebastian quickly zipped back up, a slight flush coming to his cheeks. “Ugh. Thanks,” he said.

“I swear, only you could manage to almost go on stage with your fly down,” she said as they made their way through the backstage area. The milling noise of the audience became more audible as they walked. Sebastian felt the nerves start to settle into him again. He took in and let out a breath, trying to think of how calm he’d been lying with Elliott earlier.

_Eight songs. Just eight songs. You can hide on most of them._

The lights in the auditorium lowered and a stage light came up. A cheer rose from the audience. The stagehand held up three fingers, dropped first one, then the next, and finally pointed to the stage.

Sam led the walk out onto stage, the cheering increasing. Abby was after him, moving to her drums, which were set up at the far end of the stage. Sebastian was last, keeping his head down as he moved to his keyboard. He took a seat and looked up.

He was grateful that the full crowd hadn’t showed up, but a good number of seats were occupied, and the pit looked like it was half-full. And near the front of the stage, there was the Pelican Town crowd. He could see mom and Maru, standing near each other and letting out loud cheers. Marnie and Leah were near the front, both of them short enough to need to be there. Emily was already dancing to the tune in her head, the way she always cut a rug at the luau or when someone could convince her get out on the floor at the saloon. 

A little further back, he could make out more faces. Penny and Becca and Shane and Harvey, who was a big surprise. Caroline, no doubt wanting to make sure Abby didn’t get up to anything _too_ brash. Jodi, with a wider smile than Sebastian had seen on her in years. And Elliott, not quite standing near anyone. As their eyes locked, Elliott’s grin widened and he gave Sebastian a thumbs-up. Sebastian couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.

“What’s up, Zuzu City?” Sam asked into the microphone. “We’re Xenon Chip 3.0, from Pelican Town. Thanks for coming out.”

The choice of what song to open with had been a hot topic of conversation among the three of them. They’d wanted to pick something high energy, something to get the crowd going, something with a bit of an edge. Finally, they’d come to an agreement, and as Abby counted a beat of four on her drumsticks, Sebastian couldn’t think of any other way they would be able to open the show.

Sam started to strum on the guitar and sang into the mic. It had surprised Sebastian how low Sam’s register could get – he was a solid baritone and if he’d pushed himself, he could have become a bass, a sharp contrast to Sebastian’s octave-and-a-half tenor. There was no doubt which of them was going to be singing lead.

“Lately, I been, I been losin’ sleep, dreamin’ about the things that we could be,” Sam sang. “But baby, I been, I been prayin’ hard. Said ‘No more countin’ dollars, we’ll be countin’ stars.’” He hit a few chords and sang in the otherwise silent auditorium, “Yeah, we’ll be countin’… stars.”

The band came to life. Abby pounded on the drums, Sam shredded chords on the guitar and Sebastian hit the melody on his keyboard with everything he had. He could feel the energy of the crowd rising, but his focus was entirely on the song he had to get out.

Sam lifted his gaze, scanning the crowd as he sang with an energy that matched the fast rhythm. “I see this life, like a swingin’ vine, swing my heart across the line, in my face is flashin’ signs, seek it out and ye shall find.”

“The old,” Sebastian sang on backup.

“But I’m not that old.”

“Young,” Sebastian provided.

“But I’m not that bold,” Sam sang in call-and-response. “And I don’t think the world is sold, on just doing what we’re told.”

Sebastian and Sam joined voices on the pre-chorus and Sebastian raised his eyes.

“I – I – I – I feel something so right, doing the wrong thing,” they sang. Sebastian couldn’t help but turn his gaze to where the crew from Pelican Town were standing. In the front, Maru was singing along to every word. Marnie was shimmying with a surprising amount of energy. Mom was clapping along in time, grinning.

“And I – I – I – I feel something so wrong, doing the right thing.” His gaze shifted toward the back of the pit. Penny was doing a two-step, Becca was bouncing up and down in time, Harvey was grinning widely, and even Shane looked like he was having a good time.

“I couldn’t lie, couldn’t lie, couldn’t lie.” And then Emily spun with such force that her long red skirt picked up and twirled around, her head tilted to the side, the music clearly flowing through her.

“Everything that kills me, makes me feel alive.”

Sebastian pulled back on his vocals, resuming playing backup as Sam sang the chorus again.

“Lately, I been, I been losin’ sleep, dreamin’ about the things that we could be. But baby, I been, I been prayin’ hard. Said ‘No more countin’ dollars, we’ll be, we’ll be countin’ stars.’”

Sebastian began to register the noise of the crowd, cheering along as they played through a brief instrumental section. Then Sam took control of the mic again.

“I feel the love, and I feel it burn down this river, every turn. Hope is our four-letter word.”

Sebastian joined him to sing, “Make that money, watch it burn.” He couldn’t help notice the flat line of Caroline’s mouth on that line.

Sam leaned forward, closer to the mic. “Old, but I’m not that old, young, but I’m not that bold, and I don’t think the world is sold on just doing what we’re told.”

Sebastian joined him again, singing, “And I – I – I – I feel something so wrong doing the right thing.” He looked out at the crowd. Everyone was giving Emily a wide berth for her wild dancing. He felt like all he could see was her spinning dress and that short shock of bright blue hair. “I couldn’t lie, couldn’t lie, couldn’t lie.”

And then Emily bent backward into almost a complete backbend and for the first time, Sebastian saw Elliott’s face. Elliott had both hands crossed over his chest and his expression was full of such joy and pride that it made Sebastian’s heart pound in his chest. He sang, a little louder than before, “Everything that drowns me makes me wanna fly.”

The audience began to sing along with them on the chorus. Sebastian could hear the resonance sounding back at them, even as his and Sam’s vocals were echoing out into the crowd. “Lately, I been, I been losin’ sleep, dreamin’ about the things that we could be. But baby, I been, I been prayin’ hard. Said ‘No more countin’ dollars, we’ll be, we’ll be countin’ stars.’”

Sam stepped back and took his hands off the guitar, bringing them up to start clapping in time. Sebastian nodded along with him. Sam smiled out at the crowd and said, “All right, you know this part! Sing along!”

He leaned in and started to sing the bridge, “Oh, oh, take that money, watch it burn, sink in the river the lessons I learned.”

Sebastian joined him as he watched the crowd keep up with them. “Take that money, watch it burn, sink in the river the lessons I learned.”

Leah and Marnie had joined hands and were dancing terribly, but with wide grins on their faces as they sang along. “Take that money, watch it burn, sink in the river the lessons I learned.”

Becca had somehow managed to get Harvey to put his arms around her as she sang loudly. Harvey was clearly too embarrassed to sing along, but he was staring with the goofiest grin Sebastian had ever seen on his face at Becca. “Take that money, watch it burn, sink in the river the lessons I learned.”

Penny and Shane were standing close to each other, and to Jodi, and all of them seemed to be yelling more than singing. “Take that money, watch it burn, sink in the river the lessons I learned.”

Maru and Robin were each circling fists in the air in time with Sam’s clapping. Sebastian hadn’t expected either of them to want to come, or for them to be singing along this hard. It was… nice. “Take that money, watch it burn, sink in the river the lessons I learned.”

Emily almost knocked Caroline over with her plié and wide arms. Behind her, Elliott was singing, as much as Sebastian could make out of him. “Take that money, watch it burn, sink in the river the lessons I learned.”

And then Sam grabbed the microphone, leant into it, and crooned quietly, “Everything that kills me…” Emily looked like she was waiting for the exact moment for him to drop the bass. And then she spun with full force, dress and arms and hair whipping around her in a maelstrom as Sam sang, “Makes me feel alive.”

Sebastian could feel that Sam had the audience in the palm of his hand. He was a born frontman, with that hair and that voice, and those guitar skills. He was already moving into the final chorus, his voice soaring and drowning out Sebastian’s backup vocals.

“Lately, I been, I been losin’ sleep, dreamin’ about the things that we could be. But baby, I been, I been prayin’ hard. Said ‘No more countin’ dollars, we’ll be, we’ll be countin’ stars.’”

The audience sang along with the last few lines. “Take that money, watch it burn, sink in the river the lessons I learned. Take that money, watch it burn, sink in the river the lessons I learned. Take that money, watch it burn, sink in the river the lessons I learned.”

And then all three stopped playing simultaneously as Sam roared out, “Take that money, watch it burn, sink in the river the lessons I learned!”

The roaring cheers coming up from the crowd made Sebastian feel utter relief. They liked it. They actually fucking _liked_ it. He looked over to Abby, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat, and up to Sam, who pumped a fist and was trying to get control over the cheering.

“Thank you!” he said. “Thank you! Zuzu City, you’re awesome!” As the cheering started to fade, Sam said, “Like I said, we’re Xenon Chip 3.0, and we’re so stoked to be opening for The Cosmonauts tonight. I’m Sam, we got Abby on drums, and Sebastian on keyboard. Who’s ready for another song?” The cheers rose again and Sebastian felt his stomach unclench.

~~~

Elliott felt like he hadn’t stopped grinning the entire time the band had been playing. Their fourth song was coming to an end and he readied himself to start applauding. But as the last few chords of Sam’s guitar faded away, the lights went down, away from him and Abigail. The last one on stage was focused on Sebastian, and as Elliott watched, Sebastian moved into a slower, more melancholy song than Xenon Chip 3.0 had been playing.

As Sebastian slowly played a few simple chords, he kept his head lowered, away from the audience. Sam and Abigail remained quiet on their sides of the stage, their heads turned toward him. Elliott felt a slight contraction in his chest. While he had been able to see Sebastian play in the first few songs, this was the first time he was the clear focus of attention. Elliott hadn’t known he had a performance like this lined up.

_You should have told me. This is something to be proud of._

And then Sebastian lifted his head and leaned into the microphone. His singing voice wasn’t as strong as Sam’s, and he wasn’t able to hold notes like Sam could, but there was something about the understated song that matched Sebastian’s tenor well. Elliott felt a chill over him as Sebastian began to sing.

“Can you sleep as the sound hits your ears, one at a time?” he sang, matching the somber tone of the song. “An unspoken balance here. Unabridged for so many years.” He played a few more chords, lowering his head. Elliott found it hard to spot Sebastian’s eyes. He wondered if Sebastian was needing to keep from staring out at the audience.

His voice carried again, “That I… should… stare at… receivers, to receive you, isn’t fair.”

And then Sebastian’s eyes sought out the part of the crowd Elliott was in. Elliott knew Sebastian wasn’t singing to him, but he couldn’t help feel as though the entire rest of the audience fell away, that there was nobody here but him and Sebastian.

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch you,” Sebastian sang. Elliott felt his breath catch in his throat. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you. Don’t ever worry.”

Sam stepped up and began playing a few simple chords that complimented Sebastian’s, but didn’t overpower him. Elliott was prepared for Sam to pick up the vocals and was surprised when Sebastian continued to sing, and when he continued to look in his direction.

“Your arms in mine, anytime. Wouldn’t trade anything, you’re still my everything.” Elliott felt a stinging at the back of his eyes. _No. No, it can’t be. He’s not…_ And yet, Sebastian was looking toward him with such a softness in his eyes and in his voice. “To my surprise, before my eyes… you arrive.”

Sebastian tilted his head slightly down, then glanced back up. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you,” he sang. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you. Don’t ever worry.”

He paused for a moment, which let Sam and Abby come to life, both powering into the bridge. Sebastian raised his voice, a strain coming into his singing that wasn’t there before.

“Still breaking old habits, habits,” he sang, voice thick with grit and determination. “You pulled the wool over me.” His jaw was set and Elliott could see the pulsing of the veins in his neck as his voice strained. “I can see everything… everything. Remembering… jinx removing…”

Elliott placed a hand over his mouth, trying to keep the sting of the tears at bay. He could hardly explain the emotions surging through him as he watched the music and song pour out of Sebastian. The band continued to play through a longer instrumental section, and then Sam and Abigail went silent again as Sebastian returned to the quiet scales that began the song.

Sebastian lowered his eyes – almost shyly – as he sang the last chorus. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you,” he sang. Elliott could feel his lips moving along with the lyrics behind his hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you.” Elliott swallowed hard. “Don’t ever worry…”

Sebastian raised his head back, looking out to the audience. “There’s no need for reminding,” he sang, voice soft before the edge came back for the final line. “You’re still all that matters to me.” Sam hit a hard chord on his guitar and the music faded away as Sebastian lowered his head again.

The audience, as they had done with the other songs before, went wild, cheers and applause all around Elliott. He could feel Sebastian’s eyes lingering in the area where he was and he realized how he must look, hand over his mouth and slightly hunched. He forced a wide smile to his lips and began to clap. He couldn’t tell for sure, but he thought he saw Sebastian’s lips twitch up from where he stood in the crowd.

~~~

The screeching of the bus brakes brought the buzz and chatter to a stop as Pam pulled up at the Pelican Town Bus Stop and pulled the lever to open the bus door.

“All right, get the hell off,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt and standing. She moved to the steps leading down and stood outside the bus. Elliott watched as the band sat in the front two rows, fielding congratulations and warm wishes from those on board. He was seated in one of the back rows, with Leah next to him once more. She turned to him and smiled.

“Gonna take your shot?” she asked. He looked to her sharply.

“Leah, please,” he hissed.

Leah shook her head. “As much as you turn pining into an art form, it’s not going to get you anything you want,” she said, standing and stretching. “I’m going home. Either talk to him or channel it into some tortured writing.”

Elliott sighed. “I’m sorry, starling,” he said, voice still quiet. “It’s… I feel so very unsure. Like I’m in a canoe atop quicksand.”

“Oh, Yoba,” she groaned. “Please tell me you don’t talk to him like that.” She leaned in to hug him and whispered, “He was totally singing that song to you, by the way.” Before Elliott could react, she pulled back and started making her way to the front of the bus.

Elliott slumped against the seat. His heart ached inside his chest. It was getting worse each time he saw Sebastian. He had tried to deny it to himself, but his feelings were growing stronger and stronger, and he didn’t know how long he would be able to keep himself from acting on them. But until Sebastian gave him a clear signal, he didn’t dare. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Sebastian or push him away.

Eventually, Elliott stood and made his way toward the front of the bus. Most of the crowd had dispersed. Abigail and Sam were busy loading their instruments into the back of Pierre’s truck. Caroline, despite how prim she’d looked at the start of the show, was gushing to Pierre about how excited the crowd had been. Sam and Abby were occasionally interjecting with a comment, while Pierre was nodding along quietly. In the opposite direction, Harvey had his arm around Becca, who Elliott knew had indulged a little too much in the 500-gold-a-glass beers at the venue.

Sebastian was leaning against the bus, drawing in what looked like a life-sustaining drag of nicotine. He exhaled, the cloud brightening as it passed by the light shining out of the inside of the bus, and then dissipating into the sky. His keyboard was next to him and the weariness on his face reminded Elliott of men who had been to war.

He wasn’t sure if Sebastian wanted to speak to him at all. But he hadn’t had a chance to congratulate him. As the last instruments got loaded into the truck and Sam and Abigail piled in, Sebastian raised a hand in departure. The truck pulled onto the unpaved road leading back into Pelican Town and Pam shut the lights off and locked up the bus before following on foot.

Sebastian looked over to Elliott. “You gonna say anything or just stand there?” he asked. The words might have been sharp, but the tone was playful. Elliott smiled.

“It was a wonderful show,” he said, moving to stand near Sebastian. “Thank you so much for inviting me. I had a lovely time.”

“I’m glad,” Sebastian said, drawing in another drag off the cigarette. He exhaled and leaned his head back against the bus. “I didn’t know if it was your type of music. You seem like you prefer classical.”

“Oh, Yoba, no,” Elliott said, shuddering. “I had to learn to play Brahms and Bach and Mozart when I was first learning the piano. And I left them as soon as I moved onto playing by ear. No, this was… it was maybe a little faster music than I normally listen to, but very good. And you have a lovely singing voice. That was such a treat.”

Sebastian let out a small, noncommittal noise. “Sam’s much better,” he said.

“It’s not a competition,” Elliott said. “You’re all very talented. And that song you sang was…” he trailed off. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jewel case. Sebastian looked over and blinked.

“You bought our LP,” he said, voice filled with disbelief.

“As soon as you went offstage, I darted out in the lobby,” Elliott said, smiling. “Is your song on here?”

“No,” Sebastian said. Elliott deflated a bit. “I – we’ve been going back and forth on which songs we were going to put on there. We didn’t want it to be too long, so it’s only six. And Sam originally was going to sing lead all the way through. Even if ‘I’ll Catch You’ was on there, he would have been singing.”

“That’s a shame,” Elliott said. Sebastian looked up at him. Elliott was meeting his eyes. “Sam’s a wonderful singer. But your voice was a much better fit for that one. You…” he pursed his lips together. “You really felt it. And you made me feel it.”

Sebastian felt his throat constrict in a way that had nothing to do with how raw it was from the cigarette and singing. “Thanks,” he managed to get out. He cleared his throat. “Thanks. And, uh, thanks for buying the LP.”

“I was wondering if I might get it autographed?” Elliott asked. Sebastian snapped his eyes up to Elliott, wondering for a horrible moment if Elliott was making fun of him. But the look in Elliott’s eyes was so longing and sincere.

“I don’t have a pen on me,” Sebastian said, his voice quieter than before.

“Some other time, then,” Elliott said. He tucked the jewel case back in his pocket. They stood there, eyes on each other for a long moment. Elliott finally broke the silence by asking, “Do you need any help getting your keyboard home?”

“No, it’s pretty light,” Sebastian said.

“Then… would you mind if I walked you home?” Elliott asked.

Sebastian’s heart thudded against his ribs. He nodded quickly. Elliott furrowed his brow.

“Yes, you would mind?” he asked.

“No! No, I –” Sebastian sighed. “I can never remember which is the right answer to that. No, I wouldn’t mind. Yes, I’d like you to walk me home.” He tossed the butt of the cigarette and ground it out with his boot. He leaned down, lifting the keyboard and slinging it across his chest. Elliott was worried with how bulky it was, but Sebastian didn’t seem to need any help. Perhaps it really was lighter than it looked. Sebastian looked up at Elliott with a small smile. “Fastest way is down the road. There’s a path that leads up from the farm to the mountains.”

“Lead on,” Elliott said, letting Sebastian set the pace. Sebastian seemed to want to walk in silence for the most part, so Elliott let that guide him. He glanced around at the fireflies that were starting to settle in. The first time he had seen them after he moved to Stardew Valley, he had almost fallen over in shock. They were so ephemeral and beautiful, and of course none of them could survive in Zuzu City. The air was starting to stay warmer longer, a promise that summer wasn’t far away.

Elliott was worried as Sebastian climbed up the hill leading away from the road and up toward the mountain path, but he seemed to have good balance. _He must, if he lives at a higher elevation._ He moved carefully behind Sebastian, ready to help catch him or the keyboard if either fell. But Sebastian managed well enough. When he reached the well-trod path, he turned to Elliott.

“It’s not much further, right this way,” he said.

“Marvelous,” Elliott said, trying his best not to struggle with his long overcoat. He had cursed himself for insisting on wearing the coat into the venue, where everyone was close together and the body heat rose, and doubly so now. This was not the easy incline from the beach to the town to the mountains – this was a path designed to cut speed off a commute, not for convenience.

Sebastian chuckled pleasantly. “You really are a city boy, huh?” he asked.

“I… resent that,” Elliott said, reaching out to grasp onto the wooden fence that lined the path. He leaned over, breathing heavily. He could feel sweat under his shirt, a sensation he hated. He would have to take a shower when he got home. Sweat drying on his skin overnight wreaked havoc on his skin. “I… am from… the rolling hills of…”

“You’re so full of crap,” Sebastian said, setting his keyboard down. “Dude, I smoke and I’m less winded than you.”

“Leave me alone,” Elliott groaned, sinking down to lean against the fence. “I’m an old man.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Come on, grandpa,” he said, reaching out to take Elliott’s hand. He pulled up, a little harder than he intended, and Elliott came up to his feet, standing only a few inches from Sebastian. For a moment, the two stood, looking into each other’s eyes. Sebastian felt the flutter in his chest that he’d felt earlier when Elliott had told him he would be lucky to have Sebastian as his boyfriend. Elliott’s eyes were scanning his face in the way that made him dizzy. Sebastian swallowed. He slowly let go of Elliott’s hand and moved to pick his keyboard up again. “It’s, uh, about five minutes up the trail.”

“Right,” Elliott said. He nodded and set off after Sebastian. “Could I at least help you carry it?”

“I’m fine, seriously,” Sebastian said. “I appreciate it, but it’d probably be slower for us to try and match pace.”

“You’re the expert,” Elliott said, catching up with Sebastian. The incline up to the mountain was steep, but not as bad once they moved up from the road to the pass. He leaned forward, trying to not appear as out of shape as he knew he was. When he had first moved to Ferngill, he’d tried going to the gym. He’d tried putting on some muscle. He’d succeeded, for a while. It was while he was fit that he’d met James. And then the stress of his program caused him to stop working out as much. And he’d indulged a little more than he should in ice cream and potato chips. Eating gave him something to do while he wrote.

He still remembered the look of disdain on James’s face as he pinched the fat that rolled over Elliott’s underwear, creeping from under his t-shirt when they lay in bed together. The shame, deep and burning, had settled in, and never really let go. He hadn’t eaten ice cream or potato chips – or any snacks, really, anything outside of meals – in the better part of three years.

Elliott let out a long sigh of relief as Sebastian’s house came into view. Sebastian led him to the garage and reached down, sliding the door up. He set his keyboard down and turned to Elliott.

“I’ll get it downstairs tomorrow,” he said.

“That sounds… sensible,” Elliott said, trying to regulate his breathing. His eyes glanced over the inside of the garage. There was some scientific equipment, an old work bench, Robin’s truck. And a motorcycle, which was by far the best-maintained thing in here. He glanced to Elliott. “Whose bike is that?”

“Mine,” Sebastian said, a note of pride in his voice. He reached over and ran a hand over the seat. “I saved up for a year when I first started freelancing. I’ve had it for four years now.” Elliott could see from the smile on his face that the motorcycle meant a great deal to Sebastian.

“It’s beautiful,” he said.

“Thanks,” Sebastian said. He looked up and met Elliott’s gaze. Elliott watched as he seemed to weigh whether to say something or not. Eventually, the urge to speak won out. “Sometimes at night, when I can’t sleep, I’ll take it out,” he said. He looked back to the bike. “There’s never anybody on the road that late. I just… ride. I go as far from here as I can get. Until I see the city lights.”

Elliott was quiet for a moment. “You want to leave here, don’t you?” he asked, voice low.

Sebastian couldn’t quite bring himself to turn and look at Elliott. _I did. I did for so long._ “There hasn’t been anything here for me in a long while,” he said quietly. “Not for a long time.” He moved his hand from the seat. “But…” he turned to look at Elliott. “I don’t know. Everything’s jumbled. Not – not in a bad way. Just jumbled.”

“I understand,” Elliott said. He took a couple of steps closer to Sebastian and his motorcycle. “For so many years, I couldn’t wait to leave home. I thought everything would be different when I left.”

“And it wasn’t?” Sebastian asked.

“No, it was,” Elliott said. “It was very, very different. But different doesn’t always mean happier.” He gave Sebastian a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “If you do go… don’t go too far, please. I’d miss you terribly.”

Sebastian felt as though his heart cracked clean in half. He moved over and slid his arms around Elliott, holding the taller man tight against him and resting his head against Elliott’s neck. Elliott returned the embrace. They stood together, silent, and taking in each other’s presence. And then Sebastian leaned up and pressed his lips against Elliott’s cheek. Elliott felt a hot wave of desire flush through him. Sebastian had never kissed him before. His heart was beating so hard he was sure Sebastian could hear.

“I don’t want to leave you,” Sebastian murmured, when he moved back from Elliott’s face.

“You don’t have to,” Elliott whispered back. “You can stay.”

Sebastian leaned his head against Elliott’s, bringing his hand up into Elliott’s thick tresses. How had he ever thought Elliott’s hair was anything other than gorgeous? Almost of its own accord, his hand stroked gently through Elliott’s hair. Sebastian felt his eyes flutter shut. _Yoba, this feels so good._ He could stand here, in Elliott’s arms, and fade away into nothing. If this were the last thing he ever experienced in his life, he would be happy.

But the more he stood with his cheek against Elliott’s neck, the more he realized how sweaty he was. How gross his skin probably felt. If he tried to kiss Elliott now, it would be terrible. _It would probably be terrible anyway. You don’t know how to kiss._ He reluctantly drew back from Elliott. He looked up at Elliott. “I, uh… I should… shower. And get to bed. I’m wiped out.”

“I understand,” Elliott said, though Sebastian couldn’t help feeling there was a hint of disappointment in his voice. “I… I did have a wonderful time. And perhaps the next time I see you, I could get that autograph?”

“Yeah. Yeah, absolutely,” Sebastian said, smiling again. “If I get your book autographed when it comes out.”

“It’s a deal,” Elliott said. Sebastian moved with Elliott to the garage door. Elliott turned to him and said, “Good night, Sebastian.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against Sebastian’s forehead. Sebastian closed his eyes as Elliott held the kiss against him longer than usual. He wanted desperately to pull Elliott down further, to feel their lips join. _Someday, maybe._

As Elliott pulled back, Sebastian managed a small smile. “Good night, Elliott,” he said. Elliott took his hand and squeezed it. And then he turned and began to walk away. Sebastian watched, again, until his burgundy coat and auburn hair faded into the dark navy blue of the evening.

~~~

There was little Elliott enjoyed more than the feeling of being freshly showered, of being clean and his hair being still barely damp. The ointment Harvey had given him was helping a good deal against the worst spots on his chest and torso. He could see the rough, red, angry patches on his chest healing to a less intense red, retracting slightly as the skin around the patches cleared just a touch. He was able to dress himself almost without pain. And for the first time in ages, he could actually move around without fear of a sudden sharp pain traveling from his skin directly down his nerves.

At the moment, Elliott was putting his newfound comfort entirely to the test. He lay on his bed, damp hair carefully arranged over his pillow, clothes lying nearby, gently rubbing one of his nipples between his thumb and forefinger and whimpering as he stroked himself up and down, slowly, deliberately, letting his pleasure start as a smolder that would eventually grow to a wildfire. He did touch himself when his skin was worse – he would have gone crazy if he hadn’t – but he always had to be so much more careful. Once, when he had carelessly let his elbow slide along his ribcage, he’d screamed in pain as his nerves lit up all through his side.

Now, though, there was no risk of that. Elliott had been careful and cautious when he first ran his fingers over his body, testing to make sure that there would be no sudden unpleasant shocks. His skin didn’t exactly feel comfortable, but the pleasure he got from the sensation well outweighed the slight discomfort from the patches of eczema.

Elliott let his head roll back as he grasped his member, a small whimper escaping his throat. He had held back on doing this and thinking of Sebastian. It felt like a betrayal of their friendship. But the tension between them was reaching an unbearable point. When Sebastian had kissed him, even if just his cheek, it lit the ember that he was now stoking into a wider blaze. He could feel gooseflesh breaking out across him as he envisioned what Sebastian being in his bed would be like. What it would be like to finally share in kisses, touches, strokes. To taste Sebastian’s skin, to feel Sebastian’s length in his mouth. To have Sebastian take control of him and press inside of Elliott.

“Please,” Elliott whispered into the quiet of his shack. “Please, Bastian… please…”

~~~

“Elliott…” Sebastian moaned, tossing his head back and forth as he worked himself over. He was so hard it almost hurt. Squeezing the base and running his tight grip up to the top and back down was sending shocks of blissful agony from his groin up through his torso, his chest, and down his arms and legs. He had been hard the entire time he’d showered, thinking about that last longing look in Elliott’s eyes and knowing that he was never going to be able to sleep without rubbing one out.

And now that he was alone, in his bed, with Elliott consuming his every thought and desire, he was amazed he’d been able to hold off this long. The fantasies that ran through his head were getting stronger, fantasies of Elliott above him and below him and beside him and around him and inside him, that hair flowing over Sebastian and Elliott’s soft lips finally meeting his own instead of that tease against his knuckles or his forehead or his cheeks. Sebastian arched his hips and the tip of his tongue extended out from between his lips.

Tonight, Sebastian’s fantasy involved Elliott carefully perched on his lap, his body – Sebastian hadn’t seen Elliott’s body, but he knew it would be as gorgeous as the rest of him – glistening in sweat as he bucked his hips slowly, riding up and down Sebastian. The dream Elliott had a glassy look of lust in his eyes and was emitting small whimpers and moans and gasps. Sebastian knew real life could never be that way, that he wasn’t talented at sex, that he would never be able to make Elliott feel that good. But here in his mind, he could dream.

And dream he did. He imagined the soft words falling from Elliott’s lips. The words that would make him feel as good as Elliott always did when they were together.

_Sebastian. Sebastian, please. Please, I need you. I need it. You make me feel so good. Please, Sebastian. Give it to me. My darling. My love. I love you._

A small but long whine emitted from the back of Sebastian’s throat as he felt sweat break out on his brow again, mixing with the beads of water that dripped from his barely-dried hair. He had been in too much of a hurry to do anything other than a cursory toweling-off. He imagined Elliott’s hands on his chest, running down him as Elliott rode him to ecstasy.

~~~

Elliott whimpered as he felt the heat inside of him begin to grow. His stroking began to intensify, first in the strength of his grip on his shaft and then in the pace as he began to surrender to his lust. He moved his free hand to his mouth and gently ran his tongue over the tips of the middle and pointer fingers. He adjusted his posture slightly as his hand snaked down, rubbing at his opening and causing a new sensation to blossom. 

Elliott moaned as he slipped the pair of fingers inside of himself. He hadn’t been properly taken care of this way since Harvey had been inside of him. Harvey had been so sweet, so gentle. He had explained, nervously, anxiously, that it had been nearly five years since had had last been with a man. Out of practice, Harvey might have been, but certainly not talentless. As he had prepared Elliott with gentle, long fingers slick with lubricant, and then entered him and followed the pattern he had set with slow, deep, deliberate stroking, Elliott had nearly come undone from the sensations.

Elliott didn’t always want it to be gentle. But it was so beautiful when it was. When the man he was with showed how much he cared, how much he loved Elliott by taking care of him, by making him feel good, by putting the focus on him, Elliott almost always felt as though he would weep from the sensation.

He imagined how Sebastian would feel inside of him, that concerned, worried expression on his face. Those hazel eyes, full of uncertainty and a desire to please. The way Sebastian would move back and forth, how he would hear the beautiful moans and hisses of desire coming from Sebastian. How he would see the uncertainty in Sebastian’s eyes give way to desire, as he began to move more deliberately, trying to give them both the pleasure they craved.

Elliott knew from when he’d felt Sebastian’s stiffness against him that Sebastian had nothing to be ashamed of in that department. Another whimper escaped him as he whispered quiet pleas for Sebastian to take care of him, to make him feel good.

~~~

Sebastian didn’t know if it was the cigarettes or how turned on he was that was reducing his breaths to small, shuddering gasps. He imagined Elliott’s tightness and warmth around him, how Elliott would rise and fall as he rode Sebastian, looking down at him with those warm brown eyes and whispering sweet things to him with that honeyed voice.

_Please, Sebastian. Please. Please come in me. You make me feel so good. I want to feel you inside of me. I want to make you feel good. Please, let me make you feel good. I love you so much._

Sebastian drew a hand down his chest, shivering as he imagined it being Elliott’s fingers. Elliott’s touch was so soft, so gentle. Every time he touched Sebastian, it felt like his brain stopped hissing to him. It softened the edges of the world and made Sebastian feel like he wasn’t awful. Like he wasn’t a mistake.

He imagined how Elliott’s member would rub against his stomach as he rode Sebastian, how he would clench himself around Sebastian, how his moans would deepen and plead. Sebastian whimpered and took in a hissing breath as he could feel himself nearing his peak.

~~~

Elliott felt the heat rising through his stomach. He curled his fingers inside of himself and leaned his head back as he stroked himself at a now-furious pace. “Please. Bastian, please,” he begged. His body was threatening to consume itself in the inferno of his lust.

~~~

Sebastian could feel his muscles tightening. His stomach rippled as he could sense the impending rush through himself. _I want you. I want you, Elliott. Please. Please let me._ He fell through his pleasure and brought his hand up to his mouth.

~~~

They came. Sebastian firmly pressing his hand to his mouth, trying to contain the cry that threatened to snake from him and wake everyone on the floor above. Elliott, throwing his head back and screaming his pleasure. Sebastian’s hips bucked as he felt his release shoot across his hand and upper thighs with the force of his rocking. Elliott’s scream turned into a moan of satisfaction, white ropes sprayed against his stomach and chest. The rough parts of his skin burned slightly where they had landed, but oh, how it had been worth it.

And then, both alone, they found themselves curling up as the longing settled in. The cool breeze from the air conditioning chilled the release on Sebastian’s skin. Elliott shivered at the sensation of the drafty sea air. Neither could quite bring himself to get up, to leave the feelings he had just experienced behind.

Lying in their beds, one listening to the quiet creaking and settling of his house, the other to the soft lapping of the waves on the beach, Sebastian and Elliott near-unconsciously reached out for each other, each feeling almost as if he could grasp the other, to make his dream a reality.

And then each pulled his hand back to his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet Yoba, these two are going to be the death of me yet. Trust me, I’m as frustrated as they are (and I’m sure you are) that they haven’t smooched yet, but there’s only so much more tension they’ll be able to take. Spring is almost over, but we can’t let it pass without Sebastian’s least favorite holiday of the year. That’s right, it’s time for the Flower Dance. But we’re also going to meet someone very important next chapter, who’ll have some longstanding implications for the course and trajectory of the story even as he will only figure in a handful of chapters.
> 
> The songs the band played can be found here, if you're inclined to listen: [Counting Stars](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hT_nvWreIhg) and [I’ll Catch You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cbSkRu-R0Ks).
> 
> Thank you guys so, so much for all of your kind, thoughtful comments. It’s been incredible to read your thoughts on the story and your hopes and wishes for these two. I promise the will-they-or-won’t-they will end soon enough, but there’s a couple more hoops both Elliott and Sebastian have to jump through before they finally give in to each other. Thank you again, and I’ll see you guys next week!


	7. Photosynthesis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I listened to while writing this chapter was “Hummingbird,” by George Winston, found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UcEQovoYJkc).
> 
> This chapter features a non-graphic scene of killing a marine animal for food. If that is not something you are comfortable reading, you’ll want to skip from the paragraph that begins as follows:
> 
> _Elliott grimaced. This was the part he hated._
> 
> Down to the paragraph that begins as follows:
> 
> _He sat down, hands shaking slightly. He closed his eyes, trying not to think about what had just transpired._

“Many eyes go through the meadow, but few see the flowers in it.”  
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

It was raining again. Elliott was at his table, fingers drumming quietly as he stared at the window. The rain was supposed to last all day. The same as it had the day before. And the day before that. Normally, he enjoyed the rain. He found it soothing. He found it peaceful.

But the rain wasn’t usually interfering with his ability to eat.

He would never in a million years have admitted it to Sebastian, but the cost of the concert ticket and his impulse buy of the band’s CD had cut his spare money for the month down to almost nothing. The morning after, he had woken and, with a sickening lurch to his stomach, realized that he had been off in his counting the night before. There were three weeks left of spring, not two. The justification of going to Zuzu City, of watching Sebastian play, of purchasing their CD – _Just a thousand gold for the ticket, that’s all it was. Five hundred for the CD. You absolute turnip._ – now paled as he realized he had almost nothing left to eat. 

He had taken the cash to Pierre’s with a dry mouth. There was a sack of rice that he’d been able to afford. Two cans of corn on clearance. And a simple bar of soap. He wouldn’t be able to afford his body wash, the one that didn’t irritate his skin. He shuddered to think about what damage the soap would do – no doubt it would undo most of the help from the ointment Harvey had given him. As Pierre rang up his purchases, Elliott wanted to cry, seeing the numbers on the till go up and up. He was grateful that he hadn’t miscalculated. Having to admit he couldn’t afford one of his meager purchases would have been so humiliating he would never have dared show his face at Pierre’s again. He took his shopping bag and left, pockets nearly empty and tears of shame pressing at the back of his eyes.

He had nothing left. Only the money for summer, and he didn’t dare touch that yet. It was the very last amount of gold he had from his advance. Leah had told him about foraging in the forest and the mountains. The mountains were out. He couldn’t bear the thought of Sebastian seeing him combing for berries and mushrooms. Leah had shown him where some spring onions were, toward the south end of the woods. And he’d found a few leeks as well. Those, cooked in a pan and tossed with the rice, weren’t a bad supper.

But supper was all he could manage now. In the morning, he would drink a tall glass of water and get to work. Progress was slow. His vision swam and his stomach gnawed at itself. He could hardly think about what he wanted to write, he was so hungry. A good day now was if he could manage a page and a half through the haze of hunger. He couldn’t think about the plot of his book, of the planet Abraxas or Lieutenant Crane, or Inali, the handsome Abraxan rebel leader who Crane was slowly falling in love with.

Elliott had never known hunger like this. It consumed him. All day, he thought about the bowl of rice he would get to have for supper. What he would put in it. How he would prepare it. How many more days he had before he would be able to buy groceries again. When the hunger got to be unbearable, he would put on his coat and go out to the forest. He could find salmonberries there. Tart, unpleasant little things, but they grew like weeds. And he would gather them by the handful and eat them until he couldn’t stand the sourness any longer. They filled his stomach, but often made it hurt afterward.

And now, with the rain the way it had been, he couldn’t even manage that. Last night, in an act of desperation, he had searched through the piles out behind his shack. He was almost certain Willy had mentioned something about crab pots. When he’d located what looked like some old traps, he had gone to the fishery, barely maintaining his composure, and begged Willy to show him how to set them.

Willy’s eyes had softened, and he had taken Elliott’s hand in his own. _“It’ll be fine. Here, I’ll help you. I’ll give you some bait. You’ll catch something.”_ He had taken Elliott to the far side of the beach, over the bridge that Becca had fixed shortly after she arrived in town, by the tidal pools. Willy had shown him how to lay bait in the traps, how to drop them into the deeper parts of the pools. And told him to wait.

And then, bless him, Willy had shown up later that night with a bowl of trout soup and an excuse that he had made too much and didn’t want it to go to waste. It was far from Elliott’s favorite, but it might as well have been ambrosia from the gods with how good it tasted. Willy had left before Elliott ate. He was always good about letting Elliott have his pride. In many ways, Willy reminded Elliott of his father, a kind man who knew the importance of dignity and never shaming anyone for their circumstances.

Between the soup and the rice, Elliott had gone to bed the prior evening without feeling pangs in his abdomen for the first time in close to a week. But he had woken this morning and the hunger was back. It was only briefly delayed. And now he sat, waiting and waiting and waiting. He knew he had to go check the traps at some point, but if they were empty, he might not be able to go on.

_They’re not getting any emptier._

Elliott stood, moving to the door. He picked up his umbrella and stepped out onto the beach, opening it. The smell of the ocean always seemed a little more prominent when it rained. Elliott didn’t mind. The salt air was refreshing. He took in a breath and turned to his left, carefully moving over the footbridge that led to the tidal pools. There was coral over here, pretty and pink and reminding Elliott of glass sculptures he had once seen in a museum in Zuzu City.

He moved over to the two traps that he had lain the day before. His heart thudded in his chest as he knelt in the sand, reaching down to pull the first one up. It felt much the same as it had before. And surely enough, he could see the bait still inside. He lowered his head, already feeling the frustration and despair creep in. _There’s one more. Please. Please. Yoba, if you’re there, please._ Elliott lowered the first trap fully into the water and placed his hand on the rope the second one was attached to. Willy had shown him how to secure them in the sand and pack the weight down so the traps didn’t drift away. He pulled and his heart spasmed as he felt a weight to it. Quickly, more quickly than he knew he should, he pulled on the cage, desperate to see what was inside.

As he pulled the cage up onto the beach, Elliott let out a cry of joy at the sight of the crab inside. It scuttled about, snapping its claws up at him in anger. Elliott almost wept with gratitude. He would get to eat tonight. To eat _crab_ , of all things. He loved crab. He didn’t have breadcrumbs or eggs or butter, so he wouldn’t be able to make crab cakes, but he would eat crab nonetheless. It wasn’t a small crab, either – definitely enough for more than one portion if he wanted. He settled back on his haunches and let the umbrella go, the rain starting to soak into his face and hair as he threw back his head, letting out noises halfway between laughter and sobs.

“Quite a bit of emotion for a single crab.”

Elliott startled at the voice. He turned away from the sea. He hadn’t seen the man there when he walked over. He was sitting under the sea grapes near where sand met grass, face nearly hidden under the brim of a wide straw hat. Elliott pushed himself up to a seated position.

“I – I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t see you there. I just…” he lowered his head. “I’m so hungry.” The words came out as a choked sob. The tears finally came to the surface. He was getting soaked from the rain, but he didn’t care. “I’m so hungry all the time. I’m so poor. I can’t afford anything. I can’t – I just – I –”

“Lad.” The voice was kind. Elliott looked up. The man was looking at him now. He was older, Elliott could tell that. And there was something… oddly familiar about him. He was certain he’d never seen the man before. He’d recognize someone dressed in a fisherman’s clothes like this. And yet his face – he’d seen someone who looked like this man before. Somewhere. He was almost sure of it. “Lad, it’ll be all right. I can tell.” He settled back against the tree he was sitting under. “Your story still has quite a few pages in it.”

Elliott felt a strange chill pass through him. There was something not entirely normal about this conversation. He sat on the beach, the sound of the breaking waves and rain on the sand the only noise. “Who are you?” he finally asked.

“Someone who comes with the rain,” was the only reply as the man tilted his head back down, the brim coming to shield his eyes. “A few here in town call me the old mariner. But I’m not that old. The one who was here before me… he’s gone now. So it’s me, here to make sure things go as they should. That what’s right happens and what happens is right.”

“I don’t understand,” Elliott said.

“You will,” the old mariner said. He looked up. “You’re not from here, are you?”

“No,” Elliott said.

“Then you don’t know about the pendants,” came the reply. From within his heavy coat, he pulled out a silver chain. At the end was what looked like sea glass, carved into the shape of a cerith shell. It was the most otherworldly shade of ice blue that Elliott had ever seen and his eyes widened.

“It’s magnificent,” he said, eyes unable to leave the pendant.

“Aye,” said the mariner, looking down at it with some degree of – sadness? Regret? It was hard for Elliott to tell. “There’s a custom here in the valley. A custom you may want to learn about.”

“What sort of custom?” Elliott asked, managing to lift his eyes and look back to the mariner.

The mariner was silent for a moment. Eventually, he moved his hand, tucking the pendant away in his coat once more. “You’ll learn,” he eventually said. He raised his eyes. “It isn’t something you’re quite ready for, I don’t suspect. But you will be. If you fall more for that boy with the sad eyes and the pain in his heart.”

Elliott nearly fell backward. “How – what – how could you _possibly_ –” he stammered.

“Don’t fear, lad,” the mariner said, eyes on Elliott. “It’s why I come here. There’s always been a mariner that comes to this beach, as long as there have been people who lived in this town, and loved, and wanted to share their lives together. Up by Grampleton, there’s an old lumberjill. She passes along pendants shaped like ferns, in the color of a deep jade. By the Calico Desert, there’s an old caravan master. He provides pendants shaped like the sun, in an amber hue. And here…” he lowered his head again. “The old mariner has the mermaid pendant. For anyone who’s ready.”

Elliott’s mouth felt dry. None of this made sense. His head was spinning. He was starting to wonder if he was hallucinating this entire conversation out of hunger. “How… how would I know if I were ready?” he asked.

“You’ll know,” the mariner said. “Though it would help if you’d just kiss him already.”

Elliott flushed. “I don’t know if he feels the same,” he said, voice quieter than before.

“And you never will, if you keep it to yourself,” the mariner replied. He looked over at the crab pot. “Best get that one home and cook it. You’re famished.”

“I… yes, I will,” Elliott said, following the mariner’s gaze to the small cage. “I… thank you. I think. For the – conversation.”

The mariner chuckled kindly. “Get a few square meals in you, lad. You’ll feel better.” He leaned back and lowered his head. And then he was still. Elliott could hardly even tell if he was breathing. He picked up the crab pot in one hand and his umbrella – now useless, he was soaked through – and quickly made his way back over the footbridge to his cabin.

Once inside, Elliott folded the umbrella and placed the crab pot down. He stripped at the door, pulling off his soaked clothes and wringing them out as best he could. He carried them to the dryer and placed them inside, starting up the long cycle, before pulling a sweatshirt, a towel, and sweatpants out of his wardrobe. He dried himself off the best he could, wincing as the towel passed over the sensitive skin on the outside of his ribs. He was already starting to feel his skin breaking down again from having to use the soap instead of his body wash. That was the very first thing he was going to get when summer rolled around. Then he dressed himself and he looked over to the crab pot.

Elliott grimaced. This was the part he hated. But it was necessary. It had to be done. He brought the crab pot into the kitchen and placed it on the counter. He reached down in the cabinets and pulled out a large pot, a cutting board, and a long awl. He filled the pot with water – still damnably slow, he really needed to speak with Robin about coming out here to check the water pressure – and tried to ignore the other two implements.

The first time he had bought a lobster from Willy and decided to cook it himself, it had gone about as terribly as possible. He had been terrified of the thing and its claws, finally summoning the courage to pick it up and plop it into the boiling water, slamming the lid on. And then the noise had started. The high-pitched whine that had come from the pot. Elliott had stumbled out of his cabin, running for the fishery. He was a hysterical mess by the time he got there. Willy had managed to calm him down and when he finally realized what Elliott was upset about, he had allowed himself a single moment of laughter, then placed his hands on Elliott’s shoulders.

“It’s not screaming. That’s air escaping its shell,” he’d told Elliott. Elliott had slumped in relief. “But you _should_ kill it before you put it in the pot. Boiling it alive is cruel.” Willy had taken another lobster over to Elliott’s cabin, had pulled the cooked one out, and had shown him how to humanely take care of the animal before putting it in the water.

It was a lesson Elliott took very seriously. He watched as the water began to come to a boil. The steam from the pot felt good on his cold face and hands. He carefully opened the lid of the crab pot and tilted it, allowing the crab to come out onto the cutting board. He placed his hand on the back of the shell as Willy had shown him, essentially pinning it down. As he held it there, he looked down at its angry claw-waving. He slowly spoke the words he always did when he had to do this.

“I thank you for your life, that I might be sustained from it,” he said, voice quiet. “I will honor your life by doing what good I can with the energy I receive from you. Your death will not be in vain. May you return to Yoba, who sustains us all, and know peace and light and comfort for eternity. I thank you.” He picked up the awl from the side of the cutting board and brought it to the point Willy had shown him.

_Here. This is the most humane way._

“Please forgive me.” He pressed down with all his strength, the slight crunch of the shell causing him to wince. The crab’s limbs stopped moving and it was still. Elliott removed the awl, feeling the sting at the back of his eyes again. He hated this. He hated every part of it. But it was bad enough he was already taking a life for his own consumption. He was not going to make the poor thing suffer. He placed the awl in the sink and lifted the cutting board to the pot, slowly sliding the crab into the boiling water.

He sat down, hands shaking slightly. He closed his eyes, trying not to think about what had just transpired. _I have to eat. I’m starving._ It didn’t matter. The guilt still settled in, as it always did. Elliott had never really thought about how animals had to die for him to eat meat or fish before he’d come to Pelican Town. He knew it happened, but he had never seen it done, and certainly had never done it himself. Now that he realized it, he tried very hard to be mindful of the sacrifice of lives so that he could be sustained. He’d supplemented more vegetables and grains in his diet so that he didn’t eat meat quite so much. And, when possible, he would do what he had just done. It was his life that was being sustained. The least he could do was ensure the life he was eating was ended as humanely as possible.

It never took long to cook a lobster or crab. Just a few minutes in the boiling water, and it was done. Elliott stood, wiping at his eyes quickly, before moving to the stove. He picked up a dish towel and used it to shield his hands from the heat as he pulled the pot of water off the stovetop. He drained it – carefully, very carefully, he didn’t want to spill boiling water everywhere – and retrieved the cooked crab from the pot.

It smelled so good. His mouth was watering already. He pulled a plate from the cupboard. The design, of daisies and lace around the edge, was about as far from his taste as it could get. The plates must have been crafted before he was even born. But he couldn’t afford a new set of dishes, so they had to do. He placed the crab onto the plate and reached in the silverware drawer for a fork and a claw cracker. His stomach gurgled.

And then a knock came at the door. Elliott closed his eyes. _Please, not now._ He could feel his hands tremble. He was so hungry. His mother would be horrified if she knew he was hiding from someone who had come to see him, but he couldn’t wait any longer to eat.

“Elliott, I know you’re in there! Open the fucking door, you fop, it’s pouring out!”

Becca. Elliott let out a long sigh and moved from the kitchen to the door. He’d have to offer to share his meal now. It was only the polite thing to do. He fixed a small smile to his face and pulled the door open.

“Hello, sunflower, how –”

And then Becca was pushing past him, shoving bags into his arms and furling her umbrella. She wrung out her long braid and looked up at him. “Always making me wait. So rude.” She pulled the bags – brown shopping bags, from Pierre’s – out of his arms and moved into the kitchen. “Ooh, crab. You catch that?” He followed, completely dumbfounded at what she was doing.

“Becca, what –” He suddenly realized that she was unloading groceries. A few boxes of pasta, vegetables that she probably had on the farm, and takeout boxes from the saloon. His eyes widened. “Becca, I can’t – this is too much, I –”

Becca whipped around and pointed her finger at him. She took a step forward, which caused Elliott to step back. “You are going to shut that mouth of yours right this second,” she said. Elliott could see anger in her eyes. Anger at what, he didn’t know. “You are starving. I can see it in your face. Your eyes are sunken. Your skin’s pulling against your cheeks. Granny Mullner tipped me off.” She stepped forward again, and again Elliott stepped back. “She told me about how much weight you’ve lost over the winter. And then I ran into Caroline and she told me how you’d bought the cheapest things they had the last time you were in the store and hadn’t been back since. And Marnie mentioned how she ran into you while you were foraging. _Foraging,_ Elliott.” Becca had him backed against the table and had her finger practically against his nose.

“I… I got a crab,” he managed weakly.

“Elliott.” And then the anger waned and he could hear the sadness in her voice. She dropped her finger and let out a long, frustrated breath. “Why in the name of Yoba won’t you let anyone just fucking help you?”

Elliott felt his insides twist. “I’m not – I don’t need –” the words felt like sawdust in his mouth.

“I am not giving you charity,” Becca said, narrowing her eyes. “I am buying groceries for a friend who is broke and too stubborn to…” she turned and he could see her clench a fist. She took in a breath through her nose. It shuddered as she let it out. “Is there anyone in town,” she began, speaking more slowly, “anyone at all who you would say it would be wrong to feed if they were hungry? If they didn’t have the money to buy food themselves?”

Elliott’s stomach twisted again. “No,” he said, his voice barely audible. “No, of course not.”

“Then _let me help you_ ,” she said, turning back to him. “I am lucky. I’m really lucky that I love what I do and I’m good enough at it to make a lot of gold. And I want to help people. So just… just let me help you. Please.”

Elliott’s eyes felt hot and blurry. He closed them, finally nodding slightly. He could feel Becca’s arms around him and he hugged her back, tightly. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you. You… you’re a very good friend.” He had said almost the same thing to Harvey, when Harvey had given him the ointment. And as with Harvey, the deep gratitude weighed almost as heavy as the guilt that he had to rely on his friends to help him.

“Damn right,” Becca said. Elliott laughed, but it was hollow. She rubbed his back. “Yoba, I can feel your ribs. How long has it been since you actually ate three meals in a single day?” she asked.

“Probably not since… November? Maybe a little earlier?” Elliott said. He let out a long breath. “I’m… I hate asking for help. I –” he swallowed. “It’s so hard for me to ask. I feel like I should be able to provide for myself.”

“Elliott,” Becca sighed, “I love you, but you wouldn’t make it in the wild.” Elliott’s laugh at that was more genuine. “I mean, the second we got somewhere you couldn’t take care of your hair, it would be all over.” She pulled back and put her hand on his cheek. “So will you eat something, please?”

Elliott opened his eyes and smiled at her. “Only if you’ll join me.”

“Well, duh,” Becca said, extracting herself from him and moving back into the kitchen. “Gotta hand it to you, that’s not a bad crab. Should go good with Gus’s spaghetti.” She opened the takeout containers and began plating up. Elliott set the table with silverware and napkins.

“I wish I could offer you anything other than water to drink, but…” Elliott paused as Becca pulled a bottle out of one of the bags. The distinctive pink color made Elliott’s mouth water. He looked at her. “You didn’t.”

“My own peach wine,” she said, pulling out the cork. “The stuff a thousand lovestruck confessions were made over.”

“Well, I certainly love you right now,” Elliott said, eagerly pulling a pair of glasses out of the cupboards. “Would you marry me? Save me from a life wasting away by the sea? I couldn’t promise you I’d be able to fulfill the obligations of the marriage bed, but I’d be more than happy to find you a strapping young man who could.”

Becca placed a hand on her chest, fluttering her eyelashes. “You mean you’d be willing to take half of my earnings _and_ find a two-penny whore to keep me warm at night? You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Rourke.”

“I’m nothing if not eager to please such a gentle soul,” Elliott said, placing the glasses on the table. He paused, taking a moment to look at the food laid out. The crab, of course. Gus’s famous homemade spaghetti. A crisp-looking salad – Yoba, Elliott couldn’t even _remember_ the last time he’d had fresh vegetables – with all the bounty of the valley. He felt his eyes get hot again. And then he felt Becca’s arms around him from behind. He turned and tried to smile, though he knew it wasn’t a strong attempt.

“You deserve this,” she said, quietly but firmly. “And if I find out you’re starving yourself again, I’m going to come here and force-feed you milkshakes until you get fattened up.”

Elliott let out a small laugh. “Duly warned,” he said. “Now, shall we dine?” Becca looked up at him and nodded. They sat across from each other at the small table and began serving themselves, breaking off crab legs, doling out pasta and salad, and starting to eat.

Once Elliott began, he found it difficult to stop. The way he had been raised, to eat slowly and deliberately, and never to rush, fell away as his body begged for food. He chewed quickly, swallowing so that he might take another bite. He doubted he had eaten this way since he was a child. It was one of the things Leah and James and everyone in Zuzu had noted, how picture-perfect his table manners were.

 _If they could see me now._ Becca, bless her, made no comments, just ensured that his glass was full of wine and that when his plate started to get empty another scoop of spaghetti or assortment of salad was added. Elliott ate until his stomach started to hurt. He paused, the fork halfway to his mouth. He suddenly realized how heavy his breathing was. He lowered the fork, exhaling a long breath.

“Had enough?” Becca finally asked. He looked up at her and quietly nodded, lowering his fork. He picked his napkin up and wiped at his mouth.

“I desperately needed that meal, sunflower. Thank you. Thank you so very much,” he said. He was amazed at how clear his head felt. Despite the slight lightheadedness from having such a full stomach, he felt as though he could actually _think_ about things for the first time in the better part of a week and a half.

Becca finished her last bite of salad and washed it down with a long sip of wine. She set her glass down and folded her hands, resting her chin on them. “So, I’ll give you a choice,” she said. “We can either talk about why you don’t have any money to buy food with, or another topic of my choosing. But whichever one, we’re going to talk about it. That’s the price for your meal.”

Elliott groaned. “I should have known this would come with strings attached,” he said, picking up the bottle and pouring another glass of wine. He had no idea how Becca had managed to ferment peaches in such a glorious way, but her Stardew Valley Peach was now one of Gus’s bestsellers – and it was starting to get popular in Grampleton and Zuzu City, to boot. It was enough to tempt Elliott to eat peaches over pomegranates. “Very well,” he said. “I suspect you already know why I’m so destitute, and I don’t want to go over it again. So, let’s discuss something else.”

Becca waited until he took a sip of wine before asking, “Are you falling for Sebastian Larsson?”

The wine was too good for Elliott to spit out, but not too good for him to somehow suck into his lungs and start choking on. He bent over, coughing hard and trying desperately to get his breathing under control. He looked up, eyes watering, and managed to get out between straining for breaths, “You – absolute – _strumpet._ ”

Becca laughed and reached over, clapping him on the back a few times. Elliott wasn’t sure if it helped, but the wine did clear from his lungs after a few more coughs. He leaned back up and did his best to affix her with a glare. “Why would you ask something so personal and invading, you wench?” he asked, taking another sip of wine.

“Because I’m cute and can get away with it,” Becca said, leaning back in her chair and bringing her own glass to her lips. They regarded each other in silence for a long moment. “And you still haven’t answered the question,” she said, voice suddenly more serious. “Are you falling for him?”

“Completely,” Elliott sighed, setting his glass on the table. He glanced down at the wood in the table. “He’s all I can think about, Becca. He consumes my every thought. He’s so…” he closed his eyes. “He’s so _young._ I must sound repulsive. He’s at least a decade younger than me.”

“He’s twenty-three,” Becca said. Elliott opened his eyes and looked up at her. “And you’re… thirty-two?”

“Thirty-one, and you know it,” Elliott said, narrowing his brows. “I know you. You’re trying to get me to say I’m younger so it doesn’t seem like there’s so many years between us. There is… there is a long distance between being twenty-three and being thirty-one.” He shook his head. “I was twenty-four when I came to Ferngill. I’m a completely different person now. And he’s…” he trailed off. “I wouldn’t be able to provide for him the way he deserves. Nobody wants to come live in a shack by the sea. The romance of it wears off quickly, trust me on that.”

“And yet you’re still falling for him,” Becca said, her voice softer. “So why are you pulling back?”

“Because I’m not good enough for him,” Elliott said. From the tone in his voice, Becca could tell this wasn’t the melodrama that a more mirthful Elliott might say. His eyes and lips and voice were all downcast. “He’s so…” he sighed. “He’s so handsome. And so passionate. And so _young,_ why does he have to be so young?” He leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table and his chin supported on the hand. “I wouldn’t feel so vile if he were just a few years older.”

“You know there’s even more years between me and Harvey, right?” Becca asked, raising a brow. “A full decade?”

“Yes, but you and Harvey are both business owners. Both settled in your lives,” Elliott said. “And I can’t even support myself, let alone contribute to a household.”

“There’s more to forming a relationship than money,” Becca said, splitting the last of the wine bottle between their two glasses. “I’m surprised I have to tell _you_ of all people that.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Elliott sighed. “There’s much more to a relationship than money. But having money makes everything so much easier.” He looked down at his glass and gently swirled the soft pink liquid inside. He looked up at Becca. “I have enough gold to make it one more season here in Pelican Town,” he said quietly. “My book is due at the publisher near the end of summer. And I’m – I’m so close to finishing it. Maybe three more chapters. But I don’t know what will happen after that. I don’t know if I can still afford to live here. And if I start something with him and have to leave him, it would break my heart.”

“I think it would break his heart even more if you left without trying,” Becca said. Elliott looked up at her. There wasn’t even a trace of amusement in her eyes. Becca could be a pest – no, that wasn’t accurate, she could be a royal, monumental pain in the ass – but when she got like this, Elliott knew she was being completely serious. For all the joy and mirth she brought, Becca had another side to her, a shrewd, very serious side. It was what made her such a capable businesswoman – she could separate her enjoyment of life from what she had to do to enjoy life. Elliott knew it wasn’t easy work. The first few days of every season, nobody saw Becca. She was cutting down old crops, and planting, and watering, and taking care of her animals. She had brought the farm back to life. Possibly the town with it. But it wasn’t easy. She was the hardest worker he knew. 

And the look she had in her eyes right now was the same one he’d seen when that dreadful JojaMart manager, the one whose hair was only slightly less oily than his disposition, had come across them on one of the bridges in town and tried to sell one or both of them on a Joja Membership. Becca had leveled him with a stern glance and, steel in her voice, informed him exactly where she would stick his application form if he ever asked her that question again. Elliott tried to look down into his glass, but he could still feel Becca’s eyes on him.

“I don’t even know if he likes men,” he said quietly.

“He definitely likes you,” she said. “I saw the look in his eyes when we were playing Solarian. He stared at you like you hung the sun and moon and all the stars. I’ve never seen that look on his face before, not once. He’s completely enamored.”

Elliott was quiet. Becca kept her gaze on him. “Is this about the sex?” she asked. Elliott shrugged. Becca raised an eyebrow and took a sip of wine. “I mean, from what Harvey says, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of in that department.”

Elliott turned crimson. He looked up, trying desperately to keep the red from his cheeks. “He – erm – I – I didn’t know Harvey had told you about that.”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, nodding. “I mean, he was so anxious the first time we screwed I made him stop and tell me about what happened the last time to get him so worried. And then he told me who it was with.” She raised a brow. “Gotta admit, it’s pretty hot to think about. I bet you two were smoldering together.”

“Yoba, can we _please_ not talk about how I slept with your boyfriend once?” Elliott moaned, putting a hand to his forehead.

“I’m not mad about it,” Becca said. “I didn’t even live here then. And having a boyfriend who’s bi just opens up the options for porn you both like.” At Elliott’s low grumble, she chuckled. “Okay. Seriously. What’s stopping you? I’ve never known you to struggle with words. What’s keeping you from telling him how you feel?”

Elliott closed his eyes. “I’m scared,” he admitted. “I’m scared that I’ll ruin what we have.” He opened his eyes and looked up at her. “He’s so good to talk to, you have no idea. He just… he takes everything in, and he doesn’t always respond as much as you might want, but you know he’s listening. And the way he feels. The way his skin and his hair feel. I…” he swallowed. “I couldn’t bear to lose that.”

“I don’t think you will,” Becca said. “I’ve got a good nose for this. And I would bet that if you tell him how you feel, he’ll surprise you.” She paused. They both sat in silence, the rain beating a light tattoo on the roof of the cabin. “It really is the money, isn’t it?” Becca asked at last.

Elliott let out a long breath. “I can’t know if I’ll even be able to stay in Pelican Town until the book’s finished,” he said. “And even once it is, author royalties aren’t anything to – well, to write home about.” His lips twitched upward, but there was no sign of amusement in his eyes. “I’ll be able to support myself. To at least buy groceries. But I’ll never be rich. Not unless I hit the literary sweepstakes and somehow write a bestseller.” He finished his glass and set it down on the table. “Until I know – until I’m sure that I’ll be able to stay, I can’t tell him. It would crush me to have to leave him.”

“Okay,” Becca said, swirling the last few dregs of wine in her glass. “Then let’s make a plan. You said you had three chapters left, yeah?” Elliott nodded. “Think you can get those done by, oh, next Wednesday?”

Elliott looked up at her, one eyebrow raising. “I – well, if I worked straight through, if I didn’t have any major interruptions,” he said. “If my muse didn’t abandon me. I suppose. Why next Wednesday?”

Becca smiled at him. Elliott furrowed his brow. He thought to the calendar he had last seen outside Pierre’s the better part of a week ago. _Wednesday. Wednesday. That would be the twenty-fourth. The twenty-fourth of May. That’s not anyone’s birthday. That’s – oh._

He looked up at her. “You honestly don’t think he’d dance with me at the Flower Dance,” he said flatly.

“Probably not,” she admitted. “It’s his least-favorite day of the year. But…” she tipped her glass up, finishing it off. “Once the dance is over, nobody pays attention to anyone else. You can talk to him then. Feel things out. Maybe make some plans. And if he finds out your book’s done…” she shrugged and offered him a smile. “Well. Let’s just say I don’t think the daffodils will be the only things in bloom.”

~~~

If Sebastian were Yoba, there would be a few things he would do. First, he would make it so that the day began at ten o’clock in the morning. Second, he would make Alex Mullner blimp up to eight hundred pounds and have everyone in town circle around him, laughing at him. And third, he would wipe the day of May 24th from the calendar. It would skip directly from Tuesday to Thursday and nobody would even question why there was no Wednesday in the fourth week of May.

His stomach started hurting after dinner on Tuesday night. It wasn’t the meal, just the anticipation of what he was going to have to do the next day. Ever since he’d first danced at the Flower Dance, when he was sixteen, he had dreaded it. It was ten minutes of pure, abject torture. He was sure everyone was staring at him. Waiting for him to screw up. Like the time he was eighteen and had tripped over his own feet, barely managing to avoid tumbling completely. The murmur – of disappointment, of shock, whatever it was – that rose from everyone watching as he stumbled haunted him every time late May rolled around.

He didn’t sleep well. He never did on the evening of May 23rd. And he was up – rarely for him – before dawn. He could have spent some time working, or figuring out a way to tell Elliott about his feelings, or doing any one of a number of things. But he wasn’t. He was lying in bed, facing the wall, trying to keep himself from completely panicking. He held his pillow against his mouth, forcing himself to breathe as slowly and regularly as possible.

He always could feel the eyes on him from the minute he entered the clearing. He would try to hide as best he could in the shade of one of the far trees, using Sam or Abby or both as a shield. Until it was time to change. As soon as he got that stupid blue outfit on, it would be all he could do to keep himself from having a full-blown panic attack. Sam was usually his alibi, pretending he needed some help getting into his jacket and letting Sebastian stay with him until the last minute before the dance. Sam would put his hands on Sebastian’s shoulders and talk to him quietly, telling him that Abby wouldn’t let anything happen, that it was just ten minutes and then it would be over. It was usually enough to help Sebastian power through the dance.

But the leadup was as bad or worse than the dance itself. Sebastian could sense his hands trembling against the pillow, could feel the dried tears on his cheeks and nose, could hear the shuddering of his breath. He hated the Flower Dance. He hated, hated, _hated_ the Flower Dance. If he ever got out of Pelican Town, he would spend every May 24th as drunk as he could get, trying to block out the day’s existence.

And today, it was even worse than usual. Because if he screwed up, Elliott would be there. Right next to him. That was the order that had been decided this year, drawn in a random lottery by Lewis and distributed at the practice Haley had organized. Why they needed to practice, Sebastian didn’t know. The steps were ridiculously simple. It was more walking in time than dancing. Maru had gotten out of the dance this year, with Becca taking her place dancing with Harvey. An uneven number simply wouldn’t do. And he could remember the words that all the older townspeople would say.

_Until you’re married, you dance at the Flower Dance._

Sebastian’s stomach crunched in on itself. He couldn’t bear the thought of making a fool of himself in front of Elliott. Especially not when he was right next to Elliott. And the slight turn and pass that he would have to make, moving around and near Elliott – Yoba, he wanted to die. Maybe if he pretended that he had the bubonic plague, they would leave him alone. He could just die quietly down here in the basement and nobody would ever be the wiser.

The pounding on the door startled him. Then the voice, low and deep. “Sebastian! It’s already eight, we need to leave in fifteen minutes. Your mother’s getting the truck ready!”

Damn it. Damn it all. He tried to keep his voice as steady as possible. “I’ll be right up,” he managed to get out.

“You weren’t still asleep, were you? We told you to set your alarm.”

 _Fucking go **away**._ Demetrius was never satisfied unless he knew absolutely everything that was going on. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yelled.

“Fifteen minutes. Well, fourteen now.” Sebastian could hear the heavy steps going back up the stairs. He lowered his head to the mattress and let out a quiet groan. Of course they didn’t understand. Maru got out of it this year, but until Abby got married, he was going to be stuck dancing with her. Or someone else. He wiped his eyes on the pillowcase and let out a long, shuddering breath before getting up.

He'd showered the night before, knowing he wasn’t going to have time in the morning. His clothes were laid out, with the hated dance outfit in his backpack. Sebastian began to pull his clothes on, trying to keep his breath steady all the while. Part of him wanted desperately to see Elliott, who he had only spotted a couple of times after the concert. They’d texted a bit, but Elliott had apologized in that he’d been very busy writing and wasn’t getting out much. He craved being near Elliott. He wanted to touch him, to feel him.

He paused, shirt in hands and closed his eyes. His thoughts drifted to the center of the clearing. But this time, there wasn’t anyone there but Elliott and him. Elliott’s arms around him, humming a quiet song that only they could hear. As Elliott led him through the dance, his face tucked into Elliott’s neck, and Elliott’s arms around him.

If he hadn’t known just what people would say about them being together, it would almost have been something to look forward to.

Besides that, he and Elliott _weren’t_ together. Not in that way. He pulled the shirt over his head and tucked it into the waist of his pants. He knew his hair had to be a mess, but he didn’t want to see his reflection. Still, if he went up with unkempt hair, mom would make him fix it before they left, and then everybody would be up his butt about him making them late.

_Why do we have to be there at nine? The dance doesn’t even start until eleven._

Of course, he knew why. It was the reason they always had to be there right as the festivals started. Because every fucking person in town was there right as the festivals started and anyone more than a few minutes late would get looks. The first year they lived in Pelican Town, they had made the mistake of arriving at the Luau when it was already halfway over. Even as a six-year old, Sebastian remembered the cold looks they got, the comments about how it was such a shame they didn’t get there in time to add something to the soup.

So he understood why mom was determined they would be there on time.

He finished brushing his hair and applied some mousse. He could practically feel his heart pounding against his rib cage. He looked up at his reflection. At the circles that were getting darker and more prominent under his eyes. At his hair, freshly dyed and offsetting his pale skin. At the look in his eyes that he always had when he saw his reflection. At the deep unhappiness that was always there, that never went away.

_Except when he’s there._

And now there was a chance Sebastian might screw up and make a fool of himself in front of Elliott. Well. If he did trip over his feet, he could just walk away. It was only a few minutes’ walk to the cliff, and a single step over. He lowered his head, letting out a long breath. Even his usual gallows humor didn’t seem to be helping. He couldn’t remember being this anxious since – well, probably since high school. Back when the snickering and the hissed insults made every single day hell, when he’d gotten the ulcer that was so awful he’d had to spend a few days in Zuzu General for treatment. The joke around Stardew Valley High when he got back was that he got sent to the looney bin.

He could hear the footsteps coming downstairs again. _Shit._ He moved over and picked up the backpack, hurrying to the door. He opened it just as Demetrius raised his fist. Sebastian’s stepfather looked surprised. “Oh. You’re… up,” he said.

“I _said_ I just needed a minute,” Sebastian said, closing the door and pushing past Demetrius to move up the stairs. He didn’t want to talk to anybody today. Not mom or Demetrius or Maru or Sam or Abby or –

Okay. He didn’t want to talk to _almost_ anybody today.

Sebastian stepped into the garage and moved to where mom was loading up the back of the truck. The picnic blanket, a dish to share – probably her devilled eggs, those were always a hit even if they made Sebastian gag to think about – to compliment the spread Gus would put out, and a couple of folding chairs if anyone wanted to sit off the ground. It didn’t matter. He hadn’t sat with his family at the Flower Dance in close to ten years. He could never eat until after the dance was over, and then there would be hardly anything left.

Sebastian moved into the back seat, pulling his seatbelt across his lap and buckling it in. He kept his backpack on his lap, staring at the seat in front of him and wishing that a sudden thundercloud would roll in. Not that it ever did. He couldn’t ever remember a Flower Dance getting rained out. With his luck, the first year he moved away from Pelican Town would see a monsoon roll in on May 24th that washed half the valley away.

He could hear Maru and Demetrius talking about something as they came out toward the truck. He leaned his head against the window, trying to block out the sound of their chatter. He never knew people who could talk so much at length without saying a damn thing as his stepfather and half-sister. No doubt Maru was relieved to not dance today. He wasn’t pissed at her, he would have taken the chance and run with it, but he was pissed that nobody ever gave him a break when it came to this sort of thing.

The rest of the family climbed into their usual spots. Maru in the back seat next to him. Demetrius riding shotgun. And mom in the driver’s seat. “Everybody ready?” she asked. Sebastian made a small noise of assent, looking out the window. Mom turned the key in the ignition and the truck started down the mountain road into town.

Pelican Town was small enough to get anywhere by walking. Mom only really made use of the truck when she had a job that she needed to transport her tools to or when they needed to be somewhere for an early morning festival. Or one of the festivals in winter when everybody else complained it was too cold to walk. _Never mind that I actually like the cold and don’t mind walking in it._ Their route was the same as it always was. Every Flower Dance, a careful ride down the mountain into town, along the outskirts of the square, a left turn, then a right, and finally parking outside Marnie’s ranch.

Sebastian didn’t even know why he was watching as they drove. It was the same route they took every year. The same sights as every year. Nothing ever changed in Pelican Town. It was like they were all stuck repeating the same year, over and over and over and over. People got older, fatter, grayer, but nobody ever changed.

If Becca hadn’t turned half the town upside down the prior year, if Elliott hadn’t insisted on him coming into his cabin and drying off a couple of months ago, Sebastian would have probably just sleepwalked through the day.

“Here we are,” mom said, pulling into the small area that Marnie permitted parking at for festivals. From here, it was a twenty, maybe twenty-five minute walk to the clearing that they used for the Flower Dance. Plenty of time for them to get there before nine. Sebastian squinted at the early morning sun. He hated this time of day. Sunrise was the most overrated thing in the known universe, possibly second only to sex. At least from the time he and Abby had tried.

Sebastian climbed out of the truck and picked up one of the folding chairs. Mom had the basket of food, Demetrius the other chair, and Maru the blanket. He trudged along behind them, thinking about the times he and Abby had danced together. He knew there were plenty of people in town who thought he and Abby were a thing. The two weirdos, the ones who dyed their hair (funny, how nobody ever seemed to remember that purple was Abby’s natural color) and corrupted that nice Fischer boy (funny also, how nobody ever seemed to remember that Sam was the ringleader of all their biggest pranks). He had always just assumed that eventually he and Abby would get married, that they would do it to shut everybody up if for no other reason. But ever since that Spirit’s Eve two years ago, whatever he might have once felt for Abby was gone.

In some ways, it was relieving. The pressure everyone always seemed to put on them was gone. They’d tried, it had been miserable, they were never going to even think about doing it again. But in other ways, it was incredibly disappointing. Because if Abby didn’t want to be with him, then he really was going to grow old alone, shut away, with people whispering about the strange boy who still lived in his mother’s basement, or who moved away to the city and never came back to visit, poor Robin, poor lady, she suffers so with such a disappointment for a son.

The sun was too bright. He always forgot to bring his sunglasses. He lowered his head so the rays would be out of his eyes. As long as he watched the trail ahead, he didn’t need to be looking up. So he focused on the back of Maru’s shoes and trekked along through the woods toward the clearing, actively avoiding anyone trying to talk to him.

As he’d expected, most of the town was already at the clearing when his family showed up. Robin and Demetrius were caught by Jodi and Caroline, and Maru went off to talk with Penny. Sebastian scanned the clearing. He couldn’t see Sam or Abby anywhere. _Of course._ They were probably off planning something. They’d gotten to be that way lately. He didn’t know why.

He also didn’t see Elliott. Not that that was a surprise. Elliott had a habit of arriving exactly on time. Sebastian could practically set his watch by him. There was nobody who he wanted to talk to now. He moved over into the grove of trees on the outskirts of the clearing and took a seat, leaning back against one of the trees and letting out a long breath. It helped a little with the knot in his stomach. Not much. But a little.

He just wanted the day to be over. None of the other festivals made him be the center of attention. It was a stupid, shitty day about a stupid, shitty dance that this stupid, shitty town was obsessed with for some reason or another. He tucked his knees against his chest and put his arms around his legs. If he just curled up here, maybe nobody would talk to him. Maybe they would just leave him alone.

“You look blue.” The words cut through him and he snapped his eyes open. He was about to hiss a response, but the look on Marnie’s face stopped him. She was sitting across from him at one of the other trees. Something about the look of resignation in her eyes, even as she had a smile on her face, stopped him from saying something cutting in response.

“I thought you’d be here with Shane and Jas,” Sebastian got out. He wasn’t going to respond to her comment about how he looked.

“Oh, I am,” Marnie said. She glanced back at the clearing. Sebastian followed her gaze. Jas was getting a plate of food with Shane close behind her. Sebastian was surprised to see the calm, patient look on his face as he helped her load up her plate with what she wanted.

“I don’t think I’ve seen him look like that,” Sebastian said.

“He always gets that look in his eyes when Jas is around,” Marnie said. She leaned back, the brim of her wide sunhat getting caught against the tree and tipping upward. She looked back to Sebastian. “That little girl is his entire world, you know. He’d take a bullet for her.”

Sebastian hardly recognized Shane. The surliness, the grimacing, the get-away-from-me-or-I’ll-bite-you attitude was gone. He looked like – well, like a father with his daughter: patient and kind and gentle. Sebastian turned back to Marnie.

“Catch any frogs lately?” he asked her.

Marnie laughed. “Caught, no,” she said, her eyes softening. “Heard, plenty. You know how they love that pond by my house. Almost as much as they love the mountain lake.”

Sebastian felt his muscles loosen slightly. Marnie was one of the more bearable adults in town. She might have been a gossip, but she was always kind to him. One of the few people who was, really. “I’d much rather be looking for frogs than be here,” he admitted.

“Ah. You, too?” she asked. Sebastian furrowed his brows.

“I always thought you liked the Flower Dance. You’re up there watching us,” he said.

“Oh, it’s nice to see. It’s pleasant to watch. It just… brings back some bittersweet memories,” she said. “I always hated dancing in front of everybody. At least until the year they told me I didn’t have to dance anymore.” A small, humorless chuckle came up from her throat. “I think that was the year they all figured I was going to be an old maid.”

“You’re hardly an old maid,” Sebastian said. Marnie was in her late thirties. Younger than mom and Caroline and Jodi. Only about twelve years older than Shane. And it wasn’t like everyone didn’t know about her and Lewis.

“That’s sweet of you to say, but…” Marnie shrugged with one shoulder. He knew what that meant. Suddenly, he felt a rush of sympathy for Marnie. The way she looked at Lewis, the way her hand lingered on his at the saloon when they were both a few drinks in, the gossip he had heard over and over and over again about how Lewis wasn’t going to buy the cow when he was getting the milk for free. She was crazy about Lewis, he could tell. And yet something was keeping them from being official.

She felt about Lewis the way he felt about Elliott.

“Hey,” he said, and then paused. Marnie looked up at him. He cursed his mouth for moving faster than his brain. He could feel the creep of dread gripping at him again and let out a long breath. He leaned a little closer. “Fuck them,” he said quietly. Marnie raised an eyebrow at the language, but Sebastian continued. “Fuck them for making us feel like we don’t belong. They’re the ones who are happy in this shitty little town and never want to do anything that matters.”

Marnie’s eyes drifted down and she let out a long breath. When she looked back up, her smile was sad. “You’re a sweet boy, Sebastian,” she said. “You’ve got a good heart.” He felt an uncomfortable warmth in his chest. He must have had a look on his face because she chuckled and said, “All right, all right, I won’t embarrass you.” She let out a breath. “Something tells me you’re not going to be dancing here much longer, though.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, feeling dread start to creep up. _Are they talking about me and Elliott already? There’s – there isn’t even anything to talk about._

“I’m not sure,” she said. “There’s something different about you this year. Like there’s something that’s making you happy, you just don’t know it yet.”

Sebastian’s stomach flip-flopped. He couldn’t keep the small, nervous laugh inside. “Well, if you figure out what that is, tip me off,” he said. 

Marnie laughed outright at that. “It’s a deal,” she said. Her gaze moved back over to the table. “I should get something to eat before it’s all gone. I made my blackberry cobbler this year and I know you like it. Want me to save you a scoop?”

He did like blackberry cobbler. And his stomach didn’t feel so tight as it normally did. He found himself nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he said. He felt a small smile come to his face. “Thanks, Marnie.”

She smiled at him and got up. She reached down – not far, Marnie was barely five feet tall – and squeezed his shoulder before she moved back over to the crowd of people in the clearing. As he watched her move, Sebastian suddenly felt his breath catch in his throat.

Elliott was standing by the table of food, talking to Leah and laughing at something she was saying. He was already changed into his outfit for the Flower Dance. The soft blue of the shirt caught the light and made his hair practically shine. His hair was pulled back from his shoulders, with flowers – Sebastian never knew which flowers were which, but white and yellow flowers – woven into small braids that stood out among the rest of Elliott’s auburn cascade. Elliott was so handsome that Sebastian thought his heart might break just seeing him.

His throat and mouth were dry. He swallowed once. Part of him wanted desperately to get up and move over to Elliott. To ask him to dance. For a few moments, he thought about what it would feel like to move through the steps of the dance with Elliott, to feel Elliott’s hand against his as the partners crossed each other in their steps, or Elliott’s arms around him during the final waltz. To see the sun against Elliott’s hair that close. To smell his cologne. To join hands at the end of the dance and move away from the crowd, speaking quietly with each other and stealing kisses, not caring about who was watching.

It was the last thought that brought Sebastian back to reality. That wasn’t possible. Not now, maybe not ever. He closed his eyes, curling further into himself. His stomach was hurting again. Even blackberry cobbler sounded like too much for him to handle now. He had no idea where Sam and Abby were, but for once, he didn’t care. He couldn’t bring himself to talk to anyone. After the dance, he was just going to leave, to walk home. He didn’t care if it was nearly an hour back home. He had to get out of here. He had to –

“So that’s where you are.” Sebastian felt a rush through his veins at the familiar voice. He looked up to see Elliott near him, smiling. “I was wondering if you’d disappeared.”

“I should be so lucky,” Sebastian said. The words didn’t have anywhere near the bite they would have if literally anyone else was speaking to him. Elliott offered a sympathetic smile.

“Might I sit with you for a minute?” he asked.

“Sure,” Sebastian said, sliding slightly to the side. Elliott stepped toward the tree and gingerly moved into a seated position. Sebastian hadn’t remembered Elliott looking this good last year. _I probably didn’t even look at him once last year._ “You’re already in the monkey suit, huh?” he asked.

Elliott chuckled. “It seemed like it made more sense just to wear it over here than to bring a change of clothes,” he said. He looked sideways at Sebastian. “You truly aren’t a fan of this festival, are you?” he asked.

“I hate it,” Sebastian said quietly, looking down. “It feels like everyone’s staring at me. It’s embarrassing.”

Elliott was quiet. After a long moment, he said, “I’ll be standing next to you. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Sebastian looked up at him. “Like what?” he asked.

“If I talk to you through it, would that help?” Elliott asked. “I could talk, like I did before your show. Just so you hear something. So that you focus on something other than what you’re doing.”

Sebastian’s chest felt hot and heavy. Words didn’t seem possible. He swallowed again. His head nodded up and down, once, seemingly of its own accord.

“Very well,” Elliott said. He was smiling at Sebastian now. “And perhaps after, we might share a meal? I have some news I’d like to tell you.”

“What is it?” Sebastian asked, shifting his posture to face Elliott.

Elliott checked his watch. “It’s getting close to eleven.” He looked up. “After. I promise.”

“You suck,” Sebastian said, rolling his eyes.

“On that front, I can assure you that I have never had any complaints,” Elliott said.

~~~

The outfit itched. It always did. Sebastian would swear they stored these suits in vats of cornstarch between Flower Dances. It wasn’t a bad fit. A little loose around the shoulders and waist, but he was the smallest one of the six men dancing. The outfit fit him better than Harvey, whose socks were pulled up practically to his shins to keep his calves from showing, or Shane, whose belly was pushing at the seams of the shirt.

Of course, all the eyes were on Alex. They always were. He got one of the loosest jackets, but his muscles always still stood out. Even Sam looked trim and fit. But Sebastian found it hard to keep his eyes off Elliott. He was grateful to be where he was. Next to Elliott, not at the end. Abby across from him, looking like she wanted to set the loose white dress each of the girls wore on fire. From a quick glance across the row, it looked like only Emily and Haley had good fits. No surprise, given what a whiz Emily was with a needle and thread.

Overall, the expressions of the twelve dancers veered far closer to sour than sweet. Sebastian wondered, not for the first time, if the insistence the older generations had on performing the Flower Dance had to do with ensuring everyone else would suffer as much as they had.

“You look very handsome, you know.” Sebastian glanced to the side. Elliott was smiling sidelong at him. He spoke again, as quietly as before, “Blue is a good color for you. You have a cool tone to your skin.”

“I’d feel better if it was black,” Sebastian mumbled.

“Life isn’t one experience alone,” Elliott said, stepping into place. “Not one color, nor one flavor, nor one musical note. Life is best experienced as a kaleidoscope of everything it has to offer.” Sebastian’s spine stiffened as he heard Gus warming up on the violin. He glanced across from himself at Abby, who looked like there wasn’t any sugar in the lemonade. He knew she hated this as much as he did, but she was at least light on her feet. He felt like an ox trying to waltz.

As Gus began with the first few bars of the melody – “My Life among the Flowers,” a favorite of precisely nobody under the age of a hundred and sixteen – the men bowed to their partners, who returned the bow with curtsies. Abigail dipped a little lower than the others, hiding the tongue she was sticking out at Sebastian. He stifled a snicker.

As they rose and began to slowly move across the field toward each other, first crossing the left leg over the right and then vice versa, Sebastian felt the anxiety start to rachet up. He was right next to Elliott. Elliott would see if he screwed anything up. His breath started to come in slight shudders. 

_“Some men never think of it. You did, you’d come along.”_ Sebastian glanced quickly to the left. Elliott was speaking quietly, his head tilted just so in Sebastian’s direction. _“And say you’d nearly brought me flowers, but something had gone wrong.”_

The partners met in the middle of the field. Sebastian brought his hand up. Abby placed hers against his and they began to slowly move in a circle around each other.

“Is Elliott saying something to you?” she asked.

“I think he’s reciting a poem,” Sebastian said.

“Weird,” Abby said, furrowing her brow at Elliott. On the subsequent pass, Sebastian could see Elliott and Leah doing the same slow, circular moves he and Abigail were. He could see the happy look in Elliott’s eyes and the way he spoke quietly to Leah. He heard the quiet laugh she made. And with a sudden pang in his chest, he felt envy wash over him, nearly drowning him in his desire to be in Leah’s place, to have Elliott pressing against his hand, looking down at him with those beautiful eyes, whispering quiet things to him.

Gus moved into the second part of the song and the partners separated to move back into their original starting places, as slowly as they had come together in the first bit. This was what Sebastian dreaded, the backward steps. This was how he had stumbled some five years ago, the moment he’d never forgotten, even though he’d managed to keep himself upright.

But then, just as the worry started to scratch at him, Elliott’s voice was there, reciting slowly and carefully. _“The shop was closed. Or you had doubts – the kind that minds like ours,”_ he began. Sebastian felt himself relax slightly. _“Dream up incessantly. You thought_ – careful, darling, there’s a root – _I might not want your flowers.”_

At Elliott’s warning, Sebastian cast a quick glance backward and placed his foot on the opposite side of the stray root. _I would have completely gone ass over elbows over that._ He glanced back to Elliott with a grateful look, but Elliott was already moving into the final choreography. It was time for the Flower Queen – Haley, natch – and her consort – Alex, obviously – to meet in the center of the field and perform their waltz, a more complicated dance than what anyone else was doing. Then around them, one couple at a time would begin to waltz, circling around the Flower Queen. It was the most complicated part of the dance, but oddly enough, the part that Sebastian minded the least. Everyone was staring at Haley and Alex and he didn’t feel like he and Abby had any eyes on them.

The waltzing moved in order, down the line. First Shane and Emily, and then Sam and Penny, and then Harvey and Becca, and then him and Abby, and finally Elliott and Leah, until the five couples were waltzing around the central figures. Though he hated the dancing shoes – they pinched his toes and made his heels hurt – they were much lighter than his boots. He couldn’t imagine trying to waltz on grass in his heavy boots.

He and Abigail shared a look of _thank Yoba this is almost over._ But as they moved in their circle, he heard a few words being cast his way.

 _“It made me smile and hug you then.”_ He glanced over his shoulder to see Elliott, eyes still on Leah, but seemingly able to figure out when he was closest to Sebastian. Another pass and –

 _“Now I can only smile.”_ Elliott was definitely reciting this to him. From what little he could catch of Leah’s expression, she had a very knowing smirk on her face. Another pass and – 

_“But look, the flowers you nearly brought –”_ Gus hit the last few bars of the song on his violin. Alex bowed and Haley curtsied to each other and with one final pass – 

_“Have lasted all this while.”_ The crowd was applauding. He and Abby came to a stop. Sebastian let out the long exhalation he always gave at the end of the Flower Dance. He’d made it. He’d survived another year. He glanced over to Elliott, who was clapping and facing the Flower Queen, though his eyes were on Sebastian. Sebastian mouthed the words, “Thank you.” Elliott’s smile widened and he bowed his head slightly in Sebastian’s direction.

After, Abigail and the other girls were always first into the impromptu dressing room that was set up to remove their dresses and change back into their clothes. Sebastian suddenly found himself with an appetite and he moved to the table, picking up a few slices of roast chicken, that scoop of Marnie’s blackberry cobbler he had been promised, and some of Gus’s amazing cheese cauliflower. With a glass of punch, the day was suddenly not looking so miserable as it had when he’d woken up this morning.

Sebastian returned to the spot he’d carved out for himself earlier. It was quiet and far from the chatter and noise that permeated much of the rest of the clearing. He sat, balancing his plate on his lap, and began to eat. As soon as he swallowed the first bite, he felt miles better. It had been almost eighteen hours since dinner the previous evening, and now that the anxiety wasn’t eating his stomach up, he realized he was quite hungry.

At most of the spring and summer festivals, the main meat was served cold, and the chicken was no exception. Sebastian didn’t mind. He was already hot enough from dancing in the May sun. Summer was only a few weeks away and it was already getting ridiculously hot during the day. The cauliflower was kept warm from some portable burners Gus had set up and was a pleasant contrast to the chicken. He was about to start in on the cobbler when he felt a shadow fall across him. He looked up and quickly wiped at his mouth with his napkin as Elliott smiled down at him. 

“Might I join you?” he asked, carrying a plate of his own.

“Sure. I’m almost done, though. I kind of pigged out,” Sebastian said, moving to his side so that Elliott could also sit in the shade. It looked like Elliott had mostly gotten vegetables and sides – and cobbler, but Sebastian had yet to meet the person who could pass up Marnie’s blackberry cobbler with a straight face. 

Elliott let out a sigh of contentment as he settled in. “It did turn out to be quite a beautiful day,” he said, looking up at the trees that surrounded the clearing. He smiled at a butterfly as it fluttered overhead. “And we have a friend, look.”

Sebastian glanced up and smiled. “Yeah, those yellow ones always show up this time of year,” he said. “That’s how you know summer’s almost here.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Elliott said. He was quiet for a moment. “So, that news I was going to tell you earlier…”

“Yeah?” Sebastian asked, suddenly feeling a hollow pit in his stomach. _Summer. He said he was only paid up through summer. Oh, Yoba. Please, no. Please don’t be leaving. Don’t leave me._

Elliott had a look on his face that Sebastian couldn’t determine the meaning of. He was quiet for a long moment, then looked over to Sebastian. “I’m going to be spending a couple of days in Zuzu City next week,” he said. “I’m leaving Tuesday and coming back Thursday.”

“Okay,” Sebastian said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Do you need me to water your rose or something?”

“Oh, no, no. That poor thing is on its deathbed as it is,” Elliott sighed. “Honestly, I should take this opportunity to bury it at sea and buy something a little haler and heartier.” He paused. “Perhaps while I’m in the city, I’ll ask about sturdy houseplants that don’t wilt in the sea air.” He seemed to catch himself. “Oh, but what I wanted to tell you.” He paused – for dramatic effect, no doubt, Sebastian was going to fucking _kill_ him – and grinned. “As of Monday night, _When Stars Collide_ is officially finished.”

Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat. “Wait, like – _finished_ finished? Going to be published finished?” he asked, a fluttering feeling spreading through his chest.

“The first draft is finished,” Elliott said. “Or perhaps the first and a half draft, thanks to Penny’s whiz copyediting. I’ve sent the files to my editor in Zuzu and I’m meeting with her next week to discuss whether they’ll pick it up as is or if they want me to do some more rewrites.”

Sebastian wanted to pull Elliott into a hug, but the food on their plates made him pause. No doubt Lewis would bitch them both out if they got blackberry cobbler on the Flower Dance suits. He decided on slinging an arm around Elliott’s shoulders and pulling him close. He pressed his forehead against Elliott’s temple. “I am – I’m so fucking proud of you,” he said, his voice somewhere between relief and breaking down. “You did it. You did it, Elliott.”

Elliott managed to snake an arm around Sebastian and hug him back. “Well, we’ll see what Cynthia has to say. She’s a bit of a taskmaster,” he said. “But regardless, it’s done, I’ve delivered a book to them, I’ve fulfilled the contract. I don’t have to worry about paying back the advance.”

Sebastian pulled back, looking at Elliott with relief in his eyes. “And that – you’re going to stay here, right? You’re not moving?”

“Unless something completely unforeseen happens, no,” Elliott said, smiling at Sebastian. “And I… I wanted to know if you’d like to come with me. To Zuzu City.”

Sebastian’s heart nearly stopped. “What?” he asked, sure he hadn’t heard that right.

“I’ll be leaving first thing on the 9:05 train, Tuesday morning,” Elliott said. “And the publisher is paying for my hotel room and giving me a per diem for food. I couldn’t exactly take you out for caviar and champagne, but there are some wonderful places we could go to. My meeting with Cynthia’s only a few hours on Wednesday morning and – and we could have the rest of the time, just the two of us. And I could show you what Zuzu City means to me. Like I told you I wanted to.” Sebastian was only vaguely aware of the uptempo tick in the speed of Elliott’s words, like they were pressing at the back of his lips and he had to get them out as quickly as possible. “So would you… like to come?” he asked.

Sebastian could almost hear the pounding of his pulse in his ears. Two days in Zuzu City, with Elliott, away from everyone. Away from any prying eyes. Just them. Doing whatever they wanted. But if he went, if he got on that train, he knew that he was going to confess his feelings to Elliott at some point. And if Elliott didn’t feel the same…

But the way Elliott was looking at him, the things he had told Sebastian, the way he held him and kissed his forehead and stroked his hair. Sebastian didn’t think he was reading this wrong. He prayed he wasn’t reading it wrong. 

_Fuck it. It’s now or never._

“Yes,” he said. His voice cracked halfway through the word and he felt heat come to his cheeks. He cleared his throat. “Yes. Yes, I’d – of course, I’ll go.” 

Elliott let out a long, laughing breath of relief. “Wonderful,” he said, the smile coming back to his mouth and eyes in a way that made Sebastian feel dizzy. “I was… I was worried you wouldn’t want to, or you wouldn’t feel comfortable or…” he trailed off. “You know what? It doesn’t matter,” he said, taking Sebastian’s hand and giving it a quick squeeze. “I’m just thrilled to get to spend some time with you. Real time. Time where we don’t have other commitments or things going on. Just to get to really know each other. And… maybe have some conversations we’ve been putting off.”

Sebastian was barely aware of breaths coming into and out of his lungs. He nodded. “Yeah, that – that sounds good,” he said. His lips felt dry, but he didn’t want to lick them now, that would send the worst possible message. “And you can show me where you used to live and your school. And that restaurant with – what was it, ice cream soup?”

“Marshmallow soup,” Elliott chuckled. “Yes, that all sounds marvelous. I can make reservations the night we arrive. And I can…” he caught himself. “Forgive me. This isn’t just my trip. If there’s anything you want to do, please tell me. We’ll have enough time for everything.”

Sebastian shook his head. “No, no. I want the Elliott Rourke Zuzu experience,” he said. “Show me everything. And maybe some other time, I can take you to all the crappy tourist places we would go to. It’ll be _awesome_.”

Elliott laughed. “That sounds only fair,” he said. “So, Tuesday morning, shall I meet you at your house at – say half past eight? That should be enough time for us to walk up to the train station.”

“I’ll be there,” Sebastian said. Tuesday morning. Tuesday. Just six days away. Six days and he would be in Zuzu City with Elliott. He’d have to tell mom and Sam and Abby. Let them know where he was and that he would only be gone a couple of days. He had a couple of days to figure out how to tell them why he was going with Elliott. But right now, he didn’t care.

For a few moments, Sebastian felt like everything in the world was right. Like nothing could possibly happen to dampen his spirits. Like he could float away from this clearing and never worry about anything ever again. He took a bite of the blackberry cobbler from his plate. It was even more delicious than he remembered. Marnie had outdone herself. Elliott smiled at him and Sebastian found himself smiling and glancing away, a sudden feeling of shyness at Elliott watching him eat overcoming him.

And then the anxiety started up again. What would Elliott say when Sebastian told him? What would be worse, if Elliott gently let him down, or if he told Sebastian he felt the same? Would they have sex? He wasn’t even completely sure how gay men _had_ sex. He had an idea, but… he was very unsure about how exactly it all worked.

_Fuck. I’m going to have to watch gay porn._

He heard a slight chuckle and turned. “What’s funny?” he asked.

“You,” Elliott said, smiling warmly. “Whenever you think about something intently, you get such a serious expression on your face. It’s lovely. It lets me know you care about whatever’s on your mind.” He took a bite of the cobbler himself and let out a noise of appreciation. “My goodness. Marnie could give Gus a run for his money with that,” he said after he finished.

Sebastian watched as Elliott happily ate and made noises of satisfaction, and his hair caught in the gentle spring breeze, sending auburn wisps around his face. 

_Then again, maybe watching gay porn won’t be that bad._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve tried to stick as close to the characters’ likes and dislikes from the game as possible, but it never made sense to me that Elliott loves lobster and loves crab cakes, yet crab itself is just neutral for him. The image of Willy coaching him through how to live off the sea was too sweet to ignore. I’ve also long-imagined a strange friendship blossoming between Sebastian and Marnie, when I noticed that in winter they both had dialogue worrying about the animals who were cold out in the woods and in the wild. This chapter offered a chance to branch Sebastian and Elliott’s interests and participation in things happening around Pelican Town out and away from their routines. It also was the last of what might be considered the introductory arc of this story. With their trip to Zuzu City on the horizon, how will being far from home and away from everyone else change how Sebastian and Elliott react? Who’s going to crack under the pressure first? We’ll find out next time! See you next week, guys!
> 
> Oh, and one last note: The poem Elliott recited to Sebastian is “Flowers” by Wendy Cope, a poem I've always liked for its sweetness and how it cherishes the indecisiveness that marks so many new relationships.


	8. Off the Rails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I listened to while I wrote this chapter was “The Sixth Station” by Joe Hisaishi, found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbRmFSQYeac).

“We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls.”  
-Anaïs Nin

Ultimately, Elliott decided he _would_ lock the cabin before he left. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his neighbors, but the idea of leaving his computer and books with the door unlocked made him shudder a bit. With his small suitcase in one hand and his keys in the other, he trekked north from the beach into Pelican Town. It was Tuesday. The first day of his trip to Zuzu City with Sebastian. In his suitcase, he had a few changes of clothes, his toiletries, the documents he’d been sent by the publisher with his hotel reservation and train ticket, and a notepad and pen. In case he had some ideas while he traveled.

And, just in case, a small bottle of personal lubricant. Just in case.

His stomach was aflutter with thoughts and emotions as he walked past the Stardrop Saloon, heading north. He hadn’t been as far up as the train station since he’d moved to Pelican Town, when Leah had met him at the station. He’d dragged his bags and boxes off and they looked at each other for a long moment before he burst into hard, bitter tears and she wrapped her arms around him. That journey had been a miserable one. He’d kept his phone in his hand at all times, part of him hoping that James would call and beg him to come back and another part eaten up with anxiety over what he might say if James did.

Now it was very different. He was returning to Zuzu City, triumphant, with a manuscript and nearly two more years under his belt. And a traveling companion who made his pulse race just to think about. Elliott had dreaded the run-up to the Flower Dance. He had feared he might push Sebastian away by asking him to take a trip with him; they’d only been friends a couple of months, it might feel like too much, too soon. But Becca had pushed him and nagged him and shown up at least three times a week with dinner and wine, until finally he’d agreed to at least ask. As he walked, he thought back to the words the old mariner had told him that day on the beach when he thought he might break down and start weeping over that stupid crab.

_It would help if you’d just kiss him already._

Yoba, Elliott wanted to kiss Sebastian so badly. Seeing him in that suit, dressed up, in something that fit his frame instead of hanging off of him as that hoodie he always favored did, made Elliott’s breath catch and pulse race. He had barely been able to avoid falling over himself during the steps of the dance, and Leah had teased him as they waltzed that he was paying more attention to Sebastian than to her. It hadn’t been malicious – he’d warned her ahead of time of how he was going to help Sebastian through the routine – but as he had walked her home to her cabin after the festival, Leah turned to Elliott with a serious look in her eyes.

“You’re really falling for him, you know,” she’d said. “Whether you want to admit it or not. I haven’t ever seen that look on your face before. So you need to figure this out soon. I don’t want you to get hurt if it turns out he just wants to be friends with you. And you’re going to get hurt if you don’t rip the bandage off.”

Leah was right. Elliott was falling hard for Sebastian, with a level of intensity that mirrored his schoolboy crushes on some of his older classmates. He had tried to hide this side of him, this desire, from his parents. But when he was fifteen, mum had come into his room one day after school, a day when he knew he’d been quiet and hardly answered any questions from her when he got home. She had sat on his bed and taken his hand.

“Elliott, darling, you know your father and I love you exactly how you are,” she had told him. “And someday, you will find someone who you love, and you’ll feel free to tell us about it, and we will love whoever that is, because anyone you love has to be wonderful.” He’d felt tears rise in his eyes and everything had come out all at once. Mum had held him, rubbed his back, assured him that it hadn’t changed anything. And when dad got in from the garage, she had spoken quietly to him, and he’d told Elliott to grab his coat, that they were going to get curry and tom kha soup from his favorite restaurant. It was a rare treat – meals out were usually reserved for birthdays or holidays or other special occasions – and as they ate, dad had echoed mum. He’d told Elliott that he didn’t need to hide anything from them. That they would love him no matter what.

And he had told them about Brendan. The year eleven boy, a year ahead of him, with the brown hair and green eyes and perfect smile and beautiful laugh, who he’d been pining over the better part of the school year. How he was afraid to even talk to Brendan, afraid he would let something out. Afraid that if Brendan or anyone learned how poor Elliott’s family was, how they were servants, a housekeeper and a chauffeur, and not the owners of one of the fine houses that lined the boulevard in this part of Marlbury, that they lived in the servant’s quarters above the carriage house, and that mum and dad had taken these jobs with Lady Anne because it would mean Elliott could go to the best schools in southwest Pangolais –

If they’d learned any of it, they wouldn’t want to associate with him. Any chance he would have had, with Brendan or anyone else at the school, would be gone. Because that was what the kids at school cared about. _Good breeding,_ the way they all congratulated each other on being born rich and having parents who could buy them whatever they wanted. Elliott stayed silent during these conversations. He’d picked up their way of speaking well enough – Lady Anne had taken a personal interest in his diction and had arranged for a tutor to come to the house at her own expense – but everything else, from how he had to make a single pair of shoes and two school uniforms last the entire year to how he’d learned not to accept invitations to birthday parties because mum and dad would never be able to afford a gift the likes of which the other children expected, would have given him away in a heartbeat.

He’d looked into the bottom of his soup bowl, not wanting to take another bite despite how delicious it was. He felt shame – shame in how he’d spoken about this, not shame about mum and dad, never mum and dad. They were the best parents he could ask for. When he finally looked up, through eyes bleary with unshed tears, he could see the looks of sadness in their eyes. Eventually, mum cleared her throat and reached across the table, taking his hand.

“Darling, I promise you once you get through school, none of that will matter. Not one bit,” she said, smiling. “And when you meet a boy who you love and who loves you for who you are – who you really are – we will both be thrilled to death. And so will Lady Anne. You know how fond she is of you.”

Thinking back now, it made sense why mum never asked about James after she’d finally met him. She was always an excellent judge of character. He should have been tipped off by her silence. Not that James himself didn’t show his hand just a few weeks later.

Elliott pushed the memories down as he moved past the old community center. It was strange, how he occasionally heard sounds coming from inside. As far as he knew, nobody ever went in or out of the old, dilapidated place. And yet, occasionally he felt as though his glance through the window revealed a surprising amount of polish – and then the light would change and everything would be dismal once more.

He felt his stomach get jittery once more as he cleared the town and saw Sebastian’s home before him. This was it. Once they left on this trip, it was just going to be the two of them. Three full days, until they got back on Thursday evening. Trips like this had cemented friendships he’d had into deep, meaningful relationships – both platonic and not – and they had similarly caused him to stop speaking with people. There was no better way to know another person than to travel with him or her.

And then he saw the figures standing outside the house, one smiling indulgently, the other with arms folded and a backpack at his feet. Elliott couldn’t make out their words, but he could tell Robin was giving Sebastian the send-off mothers always did before trips of this nature – _be safe, have fun, don’t be too crazy_ – and Sebastian was reacting the way children going on trips had since time immemorial – _I will, I will, I won’t._ It made Elliott smile himself to see them.

“Good morning!” he called out as he approached. Sebastian looked up and his face lit up upon seeing Elliott, a sight which made Elliott’s heart spasm. Sebastian leaned down and picked up his backpack, starting to move closer to him.

“Get me out of here before she drives me insane,” he muttered under his breath as he neared.

Elliott chuckled and murmured, “Be nice.” He looked up and raised a hand in greeting. “Hello, Robin. Thank you for letting me steal your son for a few days,” he said.

“You can steal him however long you want, as long as you return him in one piece,” she said, smiling at Elliott. “Sebby, promise you’ll text when you get in. And when you’re on the way home.”

“I _will,_ mom,” Sebastian said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “We’re gonna miss the train if we don’t go.”

Robin stepped forward, putting her free arm, the one without the hand holding the coffee mug, around Sebastian. “Have a great time,” she said, squeezing him. Elliott was glad to see Sebastian return his mother’s hug, as short as it was. Almost as surprised as he was when Robin moved to him and put her arm around him. “And congratulations on the book, Elliott,” she said, patting his back. “I can’t wait to read it.”

Elliott smiled and hugged Robin back. “Thank you so much, Robin,” he said. “You’ve been very kind. With any luck, I’ll make enough off it to build a proper house.”

Robin drew back and gave Elliott a thumbs-up. “Now you’re talking my language,” she said, grinning. She stepped back and gave them both a last look. “All right. Go, have fun. Just let me know –”

“When we get there, we will,” Sebastian said, already starting to walk away. Elliott chuckled and waved before he followed Sebastian up the trail toward the train station.

Robin watched them walk, and when they were no longer in sight, she moved back and sat down on the porch steps, sipping her coffee and watching the peaceful vista before her. In her heart, she prayed this trip would be a happy one. _Please, Yoba. Please. He needs someone kind and good. He needs someone to love. And someone to love him. Please, let this go well._

~~~

The Stardew Valley Express was not well-named. Not only was it not exclusive to Stardew Valley, but it was hardly an express, stopping at most of the small towns through the valley on its way from Grampleton to Zuzu City and the Zuzu suburbs, then stopping at them all again on the way back. And, as usual, the train was running a few minutes behind. The monitor at the station announced that arrival would be at 9:08, not 9:00, and departure at 9:13, not 9:05.

Sebastian couldn’t have cared less. The second he and Elliott arrived at the small station, unoccupied and unmanned due to how few people from Pelican Town took the train anywhere, he sat down on the bench next to Elliott and slid his arms around the taller man, tucking his head into the crook of Elliott’s neck. This pose had become so familiar as to feel natural. Just as Elliott’s arms sliding around him and the quiet, content sigh Elliott let out felt natural. Elliott gently kissed Sebastian’s forehead.

“I’ve been very much looking forward to this trip, all week,” Elliott said softly. With one hand, he gently rubbed up and down Sebastian’s back. “Dreading the meeting with Cynthia, but aside from that, the thought of getting to spend so much time with you has been sustaining me.”

Sebastian squeezed his arms tighter and nuzzled further against Elliott’s neck. “I’ve been excited, too,” he said. Excited and anxious and nervous. He’d made up his mind that he was going to wait to tell Elliott about his feelings after Elliott had his meeting with his editor. He didn’t want to throw Elliott off or make him nervous about something that had nothing to do with his meeting. He would sooner throw himself in front of the train than ruin this opportunity for Elliott.

But after Elliott was done with his meeting, Sebastian knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep things inside any longer. The thought of what they might do together kept him up at night. His fantasies of sleeping with Elliott, of feeling those lips against his, his body against Elliott’s, his hands running through Elliott’s hair, had given way to anxiety about the fact that he’d only had sex once – with a woman – and he’d been terrible. The night after the Flower Dance, he waited until he knew for sure everyone was asleep, then he put on his headphones, pulled up his go-to porn site and, for the first time, clicked something other than “straight” at the welcome page.

The videos that stretched before him made Sebastian’s head spin. For the most part, it didn’t look like something he’d be interested in. Some of the terms were unfamiliar to him and there were too many muscles, too many tattoos, too many smug, borderline cruel expressions. He scrolled and scrolled and scrolled until a thumbnail caught his eye. A man, slender and with long hair – blond, it would have been better if it were auburn – lying on his back with an expression of pleasure and relief on his face. The pose he was in didn’t seem entirely comfortable, and Sebastian winced at the size of the member going inside of him, but he seemed to be feeling no pain. Sebastian had clicked the thumbnail.

Three minutes and twelve seconds later, breathing raggedly, sweating, and covered in his own release, Sebastian’s head cleared just enough to have one thought.

 _Fuck. I am_ definitely _gay._

He’d gone back to the video a couple of times a day through the rest of the week leading up to the trip. The first few times, he’d been so turned on that he hadn’t managed anything other than stroking himself to completion. Then he’d forced himself to keep his hands on the armrests of his chair, his underwear and pants on, and just _watched._ He tried to keep an eye on the positioning, the way the man giving kept the receiving man’s legs over his shoulders, how they moved, how they positioned themselves. From the first video, he moved out to others, trying to get some ideas of how sex between men seemed to work.

It still looked kind of painful. And awfully contorty. Sebastian wasn’t sure he wanted to be on the receiving end and he was starting to get self-conscious about how he didn’t seem anywhere near as big as the men in the videos were. But the more he thought about being inside of Elliott, of seeing the expression some of these men had come to Elliott’s face, to know that _he_ might be the one putting it there, the more excited he got. And the more nervous.

Sebastian heard the train whistle and glanced at the clock. 9:07. It was here. He looked back to Elliott, who smiled at him.

“Ready to go?” Elliott asked him, those soft eyes almost enough for Sebastian to fall into them and drown.

“Yeah,” he said. He reluctantly pulled apart from Elliott and picked his backpack up. He had only a couple changes of clothes – and one nicer outfit in case Elliott wanted to go out to eat – and his cigarettes and toothbrush and toothpaste and deodorant. If they were staying at a hotel, he could use whatever they had there to clean himself. He moved down the platform, Elliott only a step or two behind him, until the train pulled up.

There was a small handful of passengers on board, but a few cars were completely empty. As the train came to a stop, the engineer exited the engine and moved down the platform to them. She held out a hand. “Tickets, gentlemen?” she asked.

Elliott had a physical ticket. Sebastian pulled out his phone and showed it to her. She carefully checked the dates and times, then nodded. “Welcome aboard,” she said, returning to her post in the engine.

“How does that work, the whole having everything on your phone?” Elliott asked as they boarded and moved to one of the empty cars. Sebastian let out a long breath.

“Okay, so you know what apps are, right?” he asked. Elliott gave him an unimpressed look. “I’m just asking! You have a dumb phone, I don’t know how much you know about these things,” Sebastian said. “So, you download the app and you can pay using your phone. You just put your account information in and then verify a few things and it’s all stored on the phone.”

Elliott shuddered a little as he stowed his suitcase under the seat. “I’d be terribly worried something would happen to my account,” he said, taking a seat by the window. “I’ll stick with my little flip phone until it won’t turn on.”

“You do you,” Sebastian said, sitting down in the seat across from Elliott. He watched as Elliott stared out the window, a small smile on his face. The train whistle blew and they slowly started to move down the tracks, west and away from Pelican Town. Sebastian watched Elliott watching the outside. After a couple of minutes of silence, Sebastian asked, “What are you thinking about?”

Elliott turned to him with a smile. “Just how different this trip is from the last time I took the train,” he said. There was a slight melancholy note to his voice, but Sebastian could tell the memory wasn’t all unhappy. He suddenly realized how stupid he was to be sitting where he was. Without another word, he got up and moved into the seat next to Elliott. He picked his feet up, resting them on the seat with him and leaned fully into Elliott, putting his arms around him again.

Elliott wordlessly embraced Sebastian and kissed his forehead. Sebastian closed his eyes, feeling completely comfortable, completely at ease. Completely safe. He let out a long breath and settled in for the journey.

Elliott held his arms around Sebastian, leaning closer to him but still keeping his eyes on the scenery as it passed by. Stardew Valley, the province, followed the geological feature for which it was named, bending around the southeastern corner of the Ferngill Republic. This area had been the site of one of the first three settlements the Pangolais explorers had established. They had relied on archeological findings to learn what the people who had once lived in this part of the world called the area. In the old language, it was _lerjoie_ – _lerj,_ star, _oie,_ water. “Starwater” didn’t exactly flow off the tongue, so some colonist with a poetic sensibility had renamed it “Stardew.” Eventually, the valley itself took on the name, and since the province was formed around the valley itself, it made little sense to call it anything else.

Further north, where it was a bit cooler and woodier, sat the provincial capital of Grampleton. The Grampleton woodworkers were some of the most talented in the world. Leah had taken an apprenticeship there before she started her program. She had told him of how beautiful Grampleton looked in winter, buttressed right against the slopes of Mount Grampleton, surrounded by rock faces and pine trees coated with snow, the Zuzu River flowing past it and out toward the sea. It was a safe place, or so he’d heard. _Perhaps I’ll go now. There’s time. And there will be money soon._

From Grampleton, it was nearly ninety minutes by train through the varying areas of the valley until it reached Pelican Town. The other towns along the route were about as notable as Pelican Town – that is to say, not very – but peaceful and pretty in their own right. Pelican Town’s claim to fame was that it was only town in the valley actually on the Gem Sea. It had once been an important port for goods entering and leaving this part of the republic, though now with trains and trucks shipping most everything, it was no longer so.

It would be another two hours to Zuzu City. Elliott didn’t mind. The train wasn’t the fastest way to reach Zuzu City, or the cheapest, for that matter, but it was the most romantic. There was something peaceful about settling back and listening to the rolling sound of the train wheels on the track, of watching the scenery roll by outside. The greenery around Pelican Town slowly became rockier as they moved west and the train descended the slopes into the Calico Desert. Elliott had been fascinated when he’d seen the desert the first time. There were no deserts in Pangolais, nor any of the nearby lands, and he’d marveled at how there was beauty to be found even in the dryness and bleakness of the landscape.

From the Calico Desert, the route was more straightforward. Instead of the slow, meandering pace the train took as it wound around the curves and bridges of the valley, it was a more or less straight shot into Zuzu City. Elliott knew it wouldn’t be long before the plains and prairie Zuzu City was built around would come into view. It also wouldn’t be long before the sky started to look hazier from the constant stream of air pollution. But that was the cost of living somewhere with so many people and so many cars.

Elliott looked back to Sebastian, who hadn’t opened his eyes or released his hold on Elliott the entire ride. His heart constricted. _Sebastian, darling. I want this trip to be so good for you. I want to show you everything. I hope you love it as much as I do._

And then Zuzu City was before them. Seeing his old city from this angle made Elliott’s insides clench with a sudden shock of homesickness. He had lived here for five years, or just nearly. More than twice as long as he had lived in Pelican Town. Memories, some sweet and others less so, bubbled up from Elliott’s subconscious. He remembered his arrival at the airport, how the three suitcases with all his things from Pangolais were so difficult to navigate on the bus to the graduate student housing at Zuzu State. He remembered times out with Leah and his friends. The day he’d met James out at a club, and how charming James had been, how he’d invited Elliott home, and the night of passion they’d shared. And he also remembered the struggles to write, the crippling anxiety his program had instilled in him, the moments of discomfort when out with James’s friends from work, and that last awful day as he struggled mightily to get his things through the city, onto the train, and away from his old life. All the while he could feel eyes on him, judging him for struggling with his possessions so much.

Elliott swallowed a sudden lump that came to his throat. No matter. There wouldn’t be anything like that now. He and Sebastian had two whole days in the city ahead of them. He smiled. He had called the night before to arrange for their reservation at the bistro. And then he would take Sebastian out, show him the city, possibly get some drinks. Just enough for him to relax and push his anxieties about the meeting with Cynthia away.

The sights slowly became more familiar as the train neared Zuzu City. Elliott squeezed Sebastian almost unknowingly. He began to recognize some of the suburbs that they were passing through, buildings and streets starting to stand out to him as the train rolled on. Steadily, the houses and businesses began to get closer and closer together, and higher and higher as space became more compacted. Elliott saw more cars stopped at railroad crossings, drivers looking annoyed. He didn’t miss driving. If he stayed in Pelican Town, he might honestly never drive again.

The light above the train was getting dimmer and dimmer from the shadows of the skyscrapers. Elliott rubbed Sebastian’s shoulder and leaned in. “We’re almost there,” he said quietly. Sebastian opened his eyes and looked out the window.

“I missed the whole trip,” he said, lowering his head back to Elliott’s shoulder. “You felt too good.” Elliott felt his stomach flip as a hot flush ran through his chest. _You beautiful creature. I adore you._ He was unable to look out the window as the train entered a large brick and glass building, slowly coming to a stop with a screech of the brakes.

The conductor’s voice came on the speaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived at Zuzu Central Station. All passengers for downtown Zuzu City should depart now. Next stop will be Gladstone Station.” With a few chimes, the doors to the train opened and Elliott reluctantly stood, extracting himself from Sebastian’s arms. He reached down, pulling his suitcase out from beneath his seat.

“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to the door.

“What a gentleman,” Sebastian said. His tone was sardonic, but Elliott could see the gleam in his eyes. He was glad – Sebastian was clearly looking forward to this trip as much as he was. They stepped out onto the platform, Sebastian looking around. Zuzu Central Station was a marvel of design, dating to the early part of the prior century, when trains were the primary way of moving about the continent. Even now, the rough and disparate topography of Ferngill left many to prefer the train over cars for long distance travel.

When Zuzu Central Station had fallen into disrepair some twenty years earlier, the city had been petitioned by rival groups, some demanding a brand-new, state of the art station, and others arguing that it was one of the few true pieces of history left in Zuzu City. Despite a generous corporate offer (which would have renamed the station Joja Central), the historians had won out, and Zuzu Central was restored in as close to the original style as possible. Sebastian was glad for it. As much as he was a child of the new century, he did love looking at older buildings, especially one that had been as loved and cared for as Zuzu Central.

Elliott came up behind Sebastian and smiled at him. He leaned his head back and marveled along with Sebastian at the art deco glass windows above the tracks. Zuzu Central Station reminded him of some of the train stations in Gran Pango, the capital of Pangolais. He was content to stay here and appreciate them, especially considering the last time he had been on this platform, he had been frantically trying to push boxes and suitcases along, nearly crying from the effort and from how miserable he was.

Sebastian seemed to suddenly realize Elliott was there. “Sorry,” he said, turning away and starting to move down the platform. Elliott turned to follow him.

“What are you sorry for?” he asked.

“I just… I got caught up. I was making us late,” Sebastian mumbled. He started down the stairs into the main terminal.

“Sebastian,” Elliott said, coming down the stairs after him. “Sebastian!” He reached out and put his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. The younger man stopped and turned, looking up. Elliott gave him a smile. “There’s no rush. It’s just a quarter past noon. We aren’t due to check into the hotel until two. We have time.”

Sebastian felt the knot in his stomach loosen. How was Elliott so good at calming him down like this? He managed a smile in return. “Sorry,” he said. _Stop apologizing, you idiot._ “I, um… could we maybe get something to eat, then?”

“Of course,” Elliott said, starting to move down the stairs. This time of day on a Tuesday there were never many trains coming into or out of the station. “If I remember correctly, there are some lovely food trucks around here. We can get a good tuck in until dinner.”

“Oh, yeah. Can’t wait to try that soup with the marshmallows in it,” Sebastian said.

“Smartass,” Elliott said out of the corner of his mouth, though Sebastian could see the smile on his lips. They walked down the stairs and into the milling crowd through the station. Elliott realized after a few steps that Sebastian wasn’t keeping pace with him and turned. He could see Sebastian paused at the very edge of the crowd as though he were unsure of how to move through it. Elliott’s eyes softened and he moved back.

“Here,” he said quietly, reaching to take Sebastian’s hand. Sebastian glanced down and back up at Elliott with uncertainly.

“Isn’t this – won’t someone…?” he asked.

“Not in Zuzu City,” Elliott said, pulling gently at Sebastian’s hand. He began walking through the crowd, Sebastian behind him and glancing around. When nobody responded to the sight of two men holding hands, he felt his shoulders unhunch. He couldn’t explain what it was about big crowds like this that made him so unsure. He kept worrying that he would bump into somebody, that he wouldn’t know which way to move, or how to flow with everyone else, that he would cause a huge amount of confusion, and then there would be eyes on him, staring at him, the freak who couldn’t figure a basic thing like this out.

But Elliott was here. He was here and helping Sebastian through it. Before Sebastian realized it, they were out on the steps of the station, and – true to Elliott’s word – a line of food trucks were on the street below.

“There we are,” Elliott said, letting go of Sebastian’s hand. Sebastian felt a slight pang of disappointment at the lost contact, but Elliott was already moving down the steps. He followed, sticking close by. “Now, I don’t see my favorite here, but there are some very good ones that used to go to the park near where I lived…”

For ten minutes or so, they moved past the lines, Elliott pointing out which trucks to go to and which ones to avoid. Sebastian got in line for a truck that specialized in indulgent hamburgers, while Elliott moved to a truck a few spots down. When he got to the front of the line, Sebastian’s head began to swim. He should have eaten breakfast, and everything was smelling good, but he couldn’t focus on what he wanted.

_Don’t pig out. He’s taking you to a nice restaurant._

“Yeah, um, just a cheeseburger and fries, please,” he mumbled. “And, um, whatever soda you have. Not – not Joja Cola. Any other.” The girl at the window took his order and accepted his gold, taking down his name and handing him a ticket. Sebastian moved to the other end of the truck, standing nearby. _Stupid. All this stuff you could eat and you get the most basic thing imaginable. Even Gus doesn’t serve just a burger and fries._ He kept his gaze down at the pavement.

“Sebastian?” He looked up. The girl was holding a sack of food out the window of the truck. “Here you go,” she said, handing it over along with a bottle of soda.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the bag of food. He glanced over just in time to see Elliott strolling up, a similar bag in his hand and a bottle of water.

“All set? There are some benches nearby,” Elliott said, smiling at him.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure, lead on,” Sebastian said. His stomach twisted. Elliott was going to think he was stupid for getting something like this. _You’re in Zuzu City, the gastronomical capital of Ferngill, and you get a fucking burger._ The thoughts vanished as they sat on the bench and Elliott pulled a large piece of flatbread out, making a noise of contentment.

“What is that?” Sebastian asked, furrowing his brows.

“It’s a pupusa,” Elliott said, turning to him. “They’re quite popular in the southwest provinces, not so much closer to the east coast. But they’re very good. This one has chicken and diced peppers and cheese in it.” He held out the flatbread to Sebastian. “Here, try.”

Sebastian hesitated. But it looked and smelled delicious. He reached out and cautiously took a piece of the bread, pulling it away. The filling steamed as he did so. He brought it to his lips, blowing on it to let the steam off. After he was satisfied, he put it in his mouth and started chewing. The flavors hit every part of his mouth and he let out a satisfied moan.

“Good, no?” Elliott asked. Sebastian could tell he was pleased.

“That’s really good. Probably puts my stupid burger to shame,” he said, looking down at the sack.

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on it,” Elliott said, breaking off a piece of the pupusa himself. “Bun Run has some of the best burgers in the city.”

Sebastian was pleased to find that Elliott was right. It was one of the better burgers he’d had, and their conversation as they sat and ate was pleasant and light. They hadn’t spoken much on the train, and Elliott was eager to tell Sebastian what his plans for the day were.

“So I figured we’d check in, and get changed, and then we could go down to the riverwalk area,” Elliott said in between bites of pupusa. “It’s not far from the restaurant, and we can see the sights. And from there, there’s a bar I’d love to take to you to. Maybe walk around the campus a bit after, if you’re not too tired?”

“That sounds great,” Sebastian said. His mood was improving with a full stomach and the prospect of an entire day with Elliott before him. “So this restaurant, am I going to need to ditch the hoodie?”

Elliott chuckled through his mouthful of pupusa. He wiped at his mouth with a napkin, swallowed and said, “They won’t turn you away at the door, but you might feel a bit underdressed, yes.”

“Fine, fine,” Sebastian said. “But only this once. After that, I don’t want to hear about getting dressed up.”

“Your sacrifice knows no bounds,” Elliott said, crinkling the wax paper his pupusa had come wrapped in and placing it back into the bag. He settled back, looking up at the tall buildings nearby. “I used to walk past here quite a bit,” he told Sebastian. “When the pollution wasn’t too bad, anyway. I’m glad it isn’t awful today. My lungs would hurt.”

Sebastian turned to Elliott, eyes worried. “You don’t… you don’t have asthma or anything, do you?” he asked. _Fuck. Have I been smoking around him and he’s got a lung disease?_

“No, nothing so dramatic,” Elliott said, turning to Sebastian with a smile. “Just a bit of sensitivity to smog. One of the many reasons I’m glad to be by the sea now.”

Sebastian relaxed slightly and took the last bite of his burger. He chewed thoughtfully, extending his small cup of fries out to Elliott. Elliott smiled and took a pair, chewing on them and letting out a small noise of satisfaction.

“Not bad. Not bad at all,” Elliott said. The two polished off the last of Sebastian’s fries and Sebastian held out his hand for Elliott’s garbage. He placed it into his own empty bag and crumpled it, letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Ready?” he asked Elliott. Elliott smiled at him and stood.

“This way, good sir.” He gestured down the street and began walking, Sebastian close behind. He wanted desperately to reach out and take Elliott’s hand once more, but the quiet, creeping fear at the back of his mind kept his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. 

~~~

The Crossroads Hotel had been built shortly after Zuzu Central Station opened. It was initially the only real option for travelers staying over in Zuzu City, but then as the city built up and attracted more and more people, the Crossroads too underwent renovation after renovation. The year Elliott moved to Zuzu City, the Crossroads was under heavy construction, changing its style yet again from the sleek, sterile look that had been so popular two decades past.

The Crossroads today exuded the sort of effortless elegance that required intense effort to maintain. But as Sebastian entered and drew in a slight breath, looking around, Elliott smiled. Nobody ever forgot their first visit to the Crossroads. The hotel bar and restaurant were serving lunch as tuxedoed servers bustled about. Behind the registration counter, the crisp, navy-and-gold uniforms of the front desk staff suggested a throwback to an elegant past the Crossroads couldn’t legitimately claim. The floor was inlaid in what looked like marble, and the live cellist in the lobby brought an entire new level of extra.

Sebastian had never felt more out of place in his life. But Elliott was there, smiling at him, and he always looked like he belonged. This was the sort of place Sebastian could see Elliott living in permanently, the sort of eccentric author who’d written beautiful, brilliant books, with his room somewhere on the fifth floor, who entertained and laughed and exchanged bon mots with the guests in the lobby, whose growing debts to the hotel were forgiven simply by how charming he was – and how many people booked rooms just to meet him.

“It’s quite a place, isn’t it?” Elliott asked.

“The – you said your publisher’s paying for this?” Sebastian asked.

“Every last gold,” Elliott said. “Oh, but we’re on our own for room service. Cynthia was very clear about that.”

“I can’t blame her,” Sebastian said, still looking around as they made their way to the desk. “This place probably charges you fifty gold if you walk past and breathe the air from the lobby.”

The clerk behind the desk finished handing keycards to the couple who she had been helping and wished them a pleasant stay with the practiced moderate warmth of someone who had worked too many years in a service profession. She turned to Sebastian and Elliott with the same politely insincere smile. “Good afternoon, gentlemen, may I help you?” she asked.

“Hello,” Elliott said, smiling at her as he stepped up to the desk. Sebastian wanted to hide behind him. He could practically feel the clerk judging him for his tousled hoodie and eyebrow and lip rings. “We should have a reservation under Rourke, that’s R-O-U-R-K-E,” Elliott continued.

The clerk typed on her computer. “Elliott Rourke?” she asked.

“That’s the one,” Elliott replied, smiling.

The clerk furrowed her brow as she clicked a few buttons on her computer. She began typing something. “Just a moment, gentlemen,” she said. Sebastian felt his anxiety start to rise. _I’m not fancy enough for this place._ After an awful minute, the clerk nodded and turned back to them. “Well, I have some good news and some bad news,” she said. “The bad news is the guest who was checking out of the room we had for you requested a late checkout and housekeeping hasn’t finished turning the room over yet. But since you are here and it is check-in time, I can upgrade you to a suite at no cost, if you’d like. But you were in a room with two queen beds and the only suite I have available has a single king, is that acceptable?”

Sebastian practically heard his heart splash into his stomach acid. And Elliott was looking at him and saying something. Sebastian forced himself to pay attention.

“– don’t mind, if you don’t?”

Sebastian swallowed, his throat suddenly drier than the Calico Desert. “No, that – that’s fine,” he managed to get out.

“Lovely,” the clerk said, starting to get their information settled. “Now, we do need a card for any incidentals…”

Elliott was already handing her a bank card. Sebastian felt a flush of guilt. _I should have offered. He’s practically paying for my entire trip._ The clerk ran the card and after a few more moments, nodded and handed it back to Elliott. Before long, she provided two keycards.

“Our wi-fi password is located inside the sleeve. You’ll be on the ninth floor, room 902,” she said. “Exit the elevators, turn left, and it’ll be at the very end of the hall. Have a pleasant stay, gentlemen.”

“Thank you very kindly,” Elliott said, taking the keys and pulling one out to hand to Sebastian. Sebastian almost felt as though he would drop it, but somehow managed to tuck it into his pocket. He numbly followed Elliott through the lobby to the elevator.

_A single king. We’re sharing a bed. Oh, Yoba. Please don’t let me do anything stupid._

The elevator required a keycard to enter, and Elliott pressed the 9 when they did. He looked over at Sebastian, who was staring ahead as the doors closed. “Everything all right?” he asked.

“Hmm?” Sebastian turned to him. “Yeah, fine. Just… I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere as nice as this. I’m a little…”

Elliott chuckled. “You should pull up your phone when we get to the room,” he said. “There’s a wonderful website with how many different ways this place has looked over the years. My favorite is the nightmare in olive and gold from the sixties.”

The elevator dinged as they reached the ninth floor and the two men stepped out, turning left and following the clerk’s instructions to walk to the end of the hall. The carpet was burgundy and lush, and the walls were an elegant shade of gray, with lights outside of each room. At the end of the hallway, rooms 901 and 902 stood next to each other, clearly set apart from the other rooms on the floor. Elliott inserted the keycard in the slot for 902, and when the light turned green, he turned the handle and opened the door.

Sebastian’s eyes widened at the sight of the room before him. The hotel room was bigger than Elliott’s cabin, with one of the largest beds he’d ever seen, paintings on the walls, a television fixed opposite the bed, a couch and separate writing area, and a door leading to what must have been the bathroom.

“Oh, yes,” Elliott said, a grin widening on his face. “Yes, this is… this will do.” Sebastian didn’t even respond, moving over to the bed and collapsing face-first onto it. Elliott laughed and moved to sit next to him.

“I’m never leaving,” Sebastian said, his voice muffled by the comforter.

“Well, I had hoped that we’d leave about 3:30 or so, to go to the riverwalk,” Elliott said, rubbing his upper back. “But if you’d just like to stay and enjoy the peace and quiet, we could certainly do that and just get a cab to dinner.”

Sebastian rolled over onto his side, shrugging off his backpack. “Nah,” he said. “Let me just lie here and pretend like I’m not a hillbilly from Pelican Town for a little bit.”

Elliott chuckled and stood, moving to his suitcase. Sebastian watched as he unpacked a series of bottles, lining them up carefully on one of the tables in the room. Elliott seemed to feel his gaze and turned, his cheeks reddening slightly. “It’s, erm… it’s my hair routine,” he said.

“I knew I’d find the truth out someday,” Sebastian said. Elliott chuckled again and picked up the bottles.

“I’ll keep them in the bathroom, out of the way,” he said, moving to the door. He pushed the door in and turned on the light. Sebastian heard a sudden intake of breath and got up, moving to follow.

Elliott moved forward a few steps, then went down to one knee. He put his hand on the edge of the bathtub, running his hand over it. Sebastian heard a slight noise come from the back of his throat.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Elliott turned slowly and Sebastian could see a level of emotion in his eyes that he wasn’t expecting. “I… I haven’t been able to take a bath in almost two years,” he said quietly. “Just showers, with hardly any water pressure.” He looked back to the tub. “I used to love this. I would get oils or bath salts, and just soak.”

The rawness of Elliott’s voice took Sebastian by surprise, and as Elliott spoke, the smile slowly faded from Sebastian’s mouth. He forgot at times how poor Elliott really was, how he barely had enough money to get by. This trip was crucial for him. Sebastian moved to sit next to Elliott and put a hand on his back.

“Why don’t you take a bath now?” he asked. Elliott looked at him. “You said 3:30, right? That’s still more than an hour away.”

Sebastian could see the want in Elliott’s face. “I – you wouldn’t mind?” Elliott asked. “I feel like we just got here, and I’d be off on my own. I’d…”

“Elliott.” Sebastian’s tone was flat. “Take a fucking bath. I’m a big boy, I can entertain myself.”

Elliott reached over and fumbled with the faucet, nearly rejoicing as water began to pour into the tub, hot and fast and so unlike the pitiful shower in his cabin. He stood and placed his hair products on the counter. Sebastian watched as he organized them carefully, trying to take up as little space as possible. He suddenly realized Elliott was about to strip and blushed, getting up.

“Sorry, I’m… I’m not trying to get a peep show or anything,” he said. Elliott laughed and turned around.

“I wasn’t planning on disrobing immediately anyway. I need to get my change of clothes,” he said, moving back to the room. Sebastian followed him and sat down on the bed. He watched as Elliott carefully removed another shirt and tie and pair of slacks – how many clothes did he bring? – and moved back to the bathroom. He paused at the door. “I won’t be long,” he said, smiling at Sebastian as he stepped inside.

Sebastian dropped back to the mattress, staring at the ceiling and trying desperately not to think about how Elliott was naked and warm and wet just a few feet away.

Inside the bathroom, Elliott placed the plug into the bathtub floor and allowed it to start filling. The hotel thankfully provided some nicer bath products – not the brands he would have used when he had the money for such things, but enough to keep the water from aggravating his skin too much. He shook a vial of bath salts into the water, following it with some scented oils. He stood and looked at himself in the mirror. Slowly, reluctantly, he began to disrobe, hanging his jacket on the back of the door, undoing his tie, and unbuttoning his shirt. Piece by piece, his clothing came off. He pulled his hair up in a careful, loose bun. And for the first time in what must have been months, he looked at his naked body in the mirror.

The patches on his chest and ribs weren’t as bad as they had been before Harvey had given him the ointment, but they still looked red and angry. Using soap in the shower hadn’t helped. He brought his hand up, gently pressing his fingertips against one of the larger patches, which wound around his side and up the center of his sternum. He winced slightly. It was tender, but he had felt worse. Over winter, with the dryness and coldness and the salt air, his skin had felt like corrugated paper. Rolling over when he slept was enough to jar himself awake, crying out in pain.

There were other spots, smaller ones, on his upper arms and his thighs, and one moderate one at the small of his back, but his chest and ribs were always where it was worst. Elliott looked up at his face. He could see the worry in his own eyes. _Would he want to touch me? Would he pull away?_ He didn’t know. He couldn’t, until and unless Sebastian was ready. Even then, the possibility of rejection, of seeing desire fading into concern – or worse, repulsion – as it had happened so many times before, weighed on Elliott.

He turned and looked back to the tub. It was nearly three-quarters full. He stopped the water and tested the temperature. Just about perfect. Perhaps a little warm, but he would live. He carefully adjusted his posture, keeping a hand on the side of the tub as he stepped into it. He almost felt tears come as he slid down into the water, a groan coming from him unbidden. The feeling of submerging himself, of being able to sink into the luxury of bathing, was something he had missed desperately.

Elliott kept his eyes closed and his breathing steady as he lay in the warm water of the tub. He had not been able to soak like this in ages. Back when he and James had lived together, Elliott loved to indulge in a bath. With the right bath oils and lotion carefully applied afterward, he could manage to keep the rest of his skin soft while not irritating the patches of eczema. He kept his head elevated so his hair didn’t touch the water. He didn’t want to have to spend time fixing it again, and this was already cutting into time he could spend with Sebastian in Zuzu City. If he hadn’t craved this feeling so much, he would have waited until they got back in the evening. Sebastian was so good to him. Elliott truly didn’t enjoy traveling by himself. He craved sharing experiences with another, with someone who mattered to him. If Sebastian had been unable to go, he would have bothered Leah until she acquiesced, but he was so very glad Sebastian was here.

It suddenly struck Elliott how they would be sleeping in bed together tonight. The thought caused a stirring that he tried to push back. _No. No, not unless… unless he wishes it. And even then._ He rolled his shoulders in the warm water, savoring the feeling of his muscles straining against the heat and wet. He had missed this so much it almost hurt. When he left Zuzu City, a life of hardship had seemed romantic. It was how all the greats had lived while writing their lasting works. He would live by the sea and be inspired by his surroundings and would work long hours into the night and his book would live on forever.

Yoba, he had been so naïve. As cruel as James was when Elliott left, that was the one thing he was absolutely right about: Elliott had had no idea how difficult the life he’d picked for himself truly was. It turned out that hardship didn’t spark the creative process, it just led to an empty stomach and a cold, drafty cabin and skin that was practically falling apart. And no book. Suffering didn’t create brilliance; it just created more suffering.

Elliott exhaled, the sound echoing gently off the tiles in the bathroom. He had missed this. He had missed comfort, the comfort of lying in a warm bath, of having a room with working heat and air-conditioning, of soft sheets and a large mattress, and good food and… everything.

 _As soon as that first check comes in, I’m contacting Robin._ He would see about buying the cabin, or some other property in town where he could build an actual home for himself. And then getting furniture – a proper bed, a nice dining table, an actual desk. Maybe he would see if he could arrange to keep the piano. And a tub in the bathroom so he could soak again.

 _And a vacation for mum and dad. And my prescription. And something for Sebastian. Something he’ll really like._ Elliott’s mind drifted along the many things he would do as soon as the book started to sell. Things he had longed for, things he had wanted so desperately but was too poor to have. It all seemed within his grasp now. He would lie here a little longer and dream about the future and enjoy the comfort of the warm water all around himself.

~~~

After mom was satisfied that he and Elliott hadn’t been kidnapped by rogue Gotoro agents and that they were safe and sound, Sebastian found himself pacing around the room with nervous energy. He was glad Elliott was enjoying himself. The look on his face and the sound in his voice when he talked about bathing – just enjoying a bath – made Sebastian feel guilt roil through himself again. He never had to think about that sort of thing. He could get whatever food he wanted, sleep until however late he wanted, do pretty much whatever he wanted. Elliott didn’t have that luxury. He had so little.

_I’m going to make this trip good for him._

It didn’t take long for him to put away the clothes he had brought in his backpack, or to lay out the clothes he was going to wear to the restaurant. He pulled off his hoodie and t-shirt and his loose pants. He hadn’t dressed up like this for a while. There weren’t many reasons to dress up in Pelican Town. He had checked to make sure the clothes still fit before he left. Sure enough. It helped that he hadn’t grown an inch or put on a single pound in the last six years.

Sebastian tucked his shirt into the waistband of his slacks and fastened them, then slid the belt through the loops. Mom had ordered him some nice clothes when he graduated high school, when she still thought he might go off to college. There weren’t any department stores in Pelican Town, so they’d had to place the order through Pierre, and even ordering some of the smallest sizes, he still had to go to Emily to have them tailored to fit. As he finished getting dressed, he looked over at the tie.

He’d practiced with the tie a few times, but whether he got it right or not was anybody’s guess. He stood in front of the mirror, trying to get it fixed correctly. His fingers were fumbling and he could feel the nerves starting to chew at him. _It’s just a tie. It’s just a fucking tie, you idiot. Men wear these every day._ He could feel his blood starting to course as he came up too short again. _Damn it. Damn it all._

He was going to start spinning out. He could feel it happening. He grit his teeth in frustration and pulled the tie loose, putting it around his neck again and trying to line up the ends correctly. “Come on,” he muttered to himself. “Come on, you stupid fuck. Come on.” He could tell as soon as he pulled one end of the tie through the loop he’d made that it was too long. He let out a long grunt of anger and pulled the tie apart again.

“Having some trouble?” Sebastian startled. He hadn’t even heard the bathroom door open. The sight of Elliott stopped him in his tracks. He had changed into what looked like a silk shirt, a rich orange color that made his hair and skin glow. A teal tie – perfectly affixed, of course – shouldn’t have worked, but somehow did. Sebastian found himself staring for a moment.

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, my tie, it’s…” he looked down at the tie in his hands.

“Would you like some help?” Elliott asked, coming up behind him. Sebastian looked up in the mirror. He was there, his piercings catching in the light from the window, and behind him was Elliott. Beautiful, kind Elliott, who was holding out a hand. Sebastian wordlessly handed the tie over and Elliott looped it carefully around Sebastian’s neck. He started to measure the tie out as though it were the most natural motion in the world.

“Back in Pangolais, we all had to wear a tie as part of our school uniforms,” Elliott said as he affixed the tie. His hands moved slowly, deliberately, taking time and care. “Even the girls did. Though their uniforms had skirts instead of trousers. I got used to tying a necktie when I was quite young. But it can be quite tricky if you’re not used to it.” Sebastian felt as though he could sink into the feeling of Elliott being behind him and keeping his arms around him. Elliott finished making a few adjustments and left the tie slightly loose. “All right. Go ahead and tighten it how it’s comfortable.”

“Thanks,” Sebastian said, moving his hands up to the tie. He could smell Elliott’s cologne, even facing away from him. He managed to get the tie affixed and let out a breath. “Thank you,” he said again, turning around.

Up close, Elliott looked even better. Sebastian felt his eyes flickering, trying to take all of Elliott in.

“I have no idea how anyone can look that good in orange,” he finally said.

Elliott laughed and smiled at him. “My skin’s warm,” he said. “Warm undertones. That and my hair and eyes. I certainly couldn’t wear every shade of orange, but a darker one like this looks quite nice on me.” He appraised Sebastian. “And I would never have guessed you owned anything pink, but it’s very, very flattering on you. Especially with that black tie.”

Sebastian felt a slight flush of pleasure. “It’s… it’s pretty much the nicest shirt I own,” he mumbled.

Elliott ran his thumb over the shoulder, feeling the fabric. It was good quality, and the carnation shade popped against Sebastian’s pale skin and dark hair. He carefully, almost hesitantly, let his thumb slide past the collar and onto the skin, running it softly up Sebastian’s neck. Sebastian didn’t pull away – if anything, he leaned into it. 

Sebastian felt lightheaded at the intimate touch. “I’m glad you’re not afraid of wearing pink,” Elliott said, smiling at him. “It suits you. You look even more handsome than usual.” 

Sebastian’s ears burned. He didn’t have to look in the mirror to know he was practically radioactive with blushing. “You – you look great, too,” he said. It was a lie. Elliott didn’t look great, he looked _amazing._ But as always, his stupid mouth locked up and he couldn’t think of anything to say. So he stammered out whatever he could.

Elliott’s eyes softened and his smile widened. “You’re very sweet,” he said. His thumb continued to move up Sebastian’s neck until he had it and his forefinger around Sebastian’s chin. Sebastian could feel Elliott gently tilting his head up. “And very, very, very handsome.” He couldn’t break away from Elliott’s gaze. He almost felt as though he couldn’t breathe. As comfortable as he and Elliott had become being close to and touching and holding and hugging each other, this was an entire new level of intimacy. Sebastian’s heart thudded against his ribs with such force that he thought he might pass out.

And then Elliott glanced at the side table and let out a sigh. “It’s already twenty to four,” he said reluctantly. “I don’t want us to miss our reservation. But perhaps…” and before Sebastian knew what was happening, Elliott leaned in and kissed his cheek, softly, slowly. Sebastian closed his eyes. He felt Elliott move his lips down to Sebastian’s jaw. He pressed another kiss to it. A nearly violent shiver ran through him as Elliott pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. Then another shiver, accompanied by a sharp intake of breath as Elliott kissed just under his ear. At last, Elliott whispered into his ear, “Perhaps we can continue this mutual appreciation after we return tonight?”

 _Oh, fuck._ Fuck, it was going to happen. Sebastian opened his eyes to see Elliott just inches away from him. He nodded, too eagerly, he knew, but he had no other idea of how he could respond. “Yeah,” he said, his voice barely audible. He licked his lips – he realized as he was doing it how it must look, but it was out of habit – and nodded again.

“Wonderful,” Elliott said. He took Sebastian’s hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles gently. “Then, Mr. Larsson, would you do me the honor of accompanying me out for a night on the town?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep the smile from his lips or the chuckle in his chest. “Oh, my knight in shining armor,” he said. 

~~~

The riverwalk district spread across the three blocks of downtown that were closest to the Zuzu River, with shops, restaurants, boutiques, and all other manner of specialty stores, all linked by bridges and pathways that allowed viewing of the river as it flowed past. Sebastian had been here before, but he had never had someone pointing out spots of interest or showing him where he used to go regularly.

Aside from a quick duck into a beauty boutique – _“I’m low on body wash and Pierre charges an obscene amount to special order it.”_ – Elliott was mostly content walking and talking and pointing out places he had been to and loved. He enjoyed watching Sebastian’s face as they moved through the district, seeing the softness in his eyes and the small smile that played on his face.

And then, as they turned a corner, Sebastian startled. “Oh, hey,” he said, pointing at a body jewelry shop. “I’ve been there. That’s where I got my piercings.”

“Really?” Elliott asked, smile widening. “Me, too.”

Sebastian turned to look at Elliott, brows furrowed. “Okay, no,” he said. “I refuse to believe you have ever gotten anything pierced.”

Elliott smirked and tucked his hair behind his right ear. A single titanium hoop earring in his helix caught the light of the late afternoon. Somehow, the slight hint of daring that the earring gave made Elliott look even more dashing than before.

“I – how did I never notice that?” Sebastian asked, looking back to Elliott.

“Most people don’t,” Elliott said, moving his hand away but leaving the hair tucked behind his ear. “My hair tends to fall over my ears, so unless I point it out, it’s well-hidden.” He glanced to Sebastian’s jewelry. “Did any of yours hurt?”

“Nah, not really,” Sebastian said. “I mean, they use needles instead of a gun, so it’s just a quick pinch. The brow and the ear didn’t hurt at all. The lip wasn’t bad when I got it done, but it swelled up after and that hurt like a bitch.”

Elliott shuddered. “That sounds awful,” he said.

“Yeah, that wasn’t a fun couple of days,” Sebastian said, one side of his mouth crooking upward. “Especially because I didn’t tell mom I was getting it all done. I think she broke a window with the shriek she let out when she saw me.”

“You are terrible to your poor mother,” Elliott said, shaking his head. “She’s such a kind woman and you go out of your way to terrorize her. Just awful.” Sebastian could see how Elliott was trying and failing to keep the corners of his mouth twitching up.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sebastian said, leaning into him and giving him a light shove with his shoulder. “And I’m sure you were perfectly well-behaved growing up.”

“I was a precious darling angel child, and my mum is not here to contradict me,” Elliott said, his smile widening. Sebastian snickered.

“What’d you do, get into the good sherry? Smuggle boys up to your room? Take the horse and buggy out and run roughshod through the vicar’s flower bed?” Sebastian asked.

Elliott turned, fist on hip. “You little shit,” he said. Sebastian laughed outright at that – Elliott’s proper accent and his deliberate diction somehow made the profanity seem even more pronounced. “I’ll have you know I’ve never even _met_ a vicar. My parents were proper heathens. And I don’t care for sherry a bit, it’s too cloying.” He turned and started walking deliberately in the direction they were heading.

Sebastian came up beside him, grinning. “And smuggling boys into your room?” he asked.

“Piss off,” Elliott said, but Sebastian could see the sly grin on his face and the glint in his eyes.

The sun was dipping low in the sky, illuminating the river and the shops and the pavement with a rich golden hue. In this light, Elliott’s hair took on the most brilliant shade of red and gold, which almost took Sebastian’s breath away to look at. He remembered a little of Haley’s yakking about photography and when the best times of day to take pictures were. “Golden hour,” she’d called it, the hour or so before sunset. He’d never understood it until now.

“So, the restaurant’s just down here,” Elliott said, starting down a small set of stairs that led to a lower level of the riverwalk. Sebastian followed eagerly. He was hungry, despite his burger from earlier. Elliott had built this place up so much that he hoped he wasn’t disappointed. Nothing about this trip had been disappointing so far. And the look of the bistro, with pale yellow stucco exterior and a patio that jutted out over the river and tall, sleek lamps that clearly were there to provide gentle ambiance once the sun went down, was fancier than any restaurant he could remember dining at. He glanced up at the name. _Candle Glow Bistro._ Sebastian didn’t see any candles on any of the tables, but hey. It sounded like a place posh people ate at.

They were clearly one of the first tables for the dinner service; Sebastian noticed only a couple of other tables inside the restaurant that were occupied, and there was nobody else out on the patio with them. The hostess seated them at a small table for two, one that Sebastian was grateful to note didn’t have either seat facing in the direction of the setting sun.

“So, if I try this weird soup and it’s not the best I’ve ever had, I’m going to be disappointed,” he warned Elliott with a grin.

Elliott laughed. “I’ll be honest, I actually prefer their onion soup myself,” he said. “I like a soup that’s a bit thinner, not so rich. But get whatever you like, it’s on Cynthia.”

Sebastian eagerly scanned the menu. He was pleased to see that the food didn’t look too fussy – aside from some of the descriptions, it seemed like things he would enjoy. When the waiter came, they placed their orders, handed over their menus, and settled in, a glass of white wine in front of Elliott and a bourbon cocktail – not a manhattan, they hadn’t had that on the menu, and Sebastian was not going to be difficult – in front of himself.

Elliott raised his wineglass, holding it out. “Here’s to the start of a wonderful trip,” he said, smiling in the way that made Sebastian feel like his insides were going to turn into goo. Sebastian brought his glass up to clink against Elliott’s, less obnoxiously than he had last time.

“Cheers,” he said. They brought their glasses back and each took a sip. The drink was quite good – a little sweeter than Sebastian usually would like, but definitely something he’d have to keep in mind.

When they set their glasses down, Elliott reached across the table and took Sebastian’s hand. “I’m so happy to be here with you,” he said, looking into Sebastian’s eyes. He gently ran his thumb over Sebastian’s knuckles. “Not that it isn’t wonderful to spend time with you back home, but this just feels particularly special.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Sebastian said. The alcohol was making his chest feel warm already. He intertwined his hand with Elliott’s, for once not caring if anyone saw. “I –” he swallowed. “I’m really glad you asked me to come here with you.”

Elliott squeezed Sebastian’s hand, eyes shining. “Hopefully this is only the first of a number of adventures,” he said. “I would love to experience so much more with you.”

Sebastian felt his heart flip in his chest. “I – yeah, that – that sounds…” The arrival of their soups saved him from making more of a fool of himself, but he was disappointed to lose the feeling of Elliott’s hand on his.

The bowl placed before him held a reddish-orange soup with small puffs of cheese souffle inside, drizzled with a light pesto. It smelled delicious and Sebastian picked up his spoon, dipping it in the bowl. He gently blew on it before carefully tasting it. He could taste the tomato and cream and pesto, and the soup was silky. It was phenomenal. He let out a noise of approval and heard a chuckle from across the table.

“Well, _is_ it the best you’ve ever had?” Elliott asked, carefully balancing his onion soup with the strands of cheese that seemed to be coming up from the toasted crouton on the top.

Sebastian removed the last bit of the spoon from his mouth and swallowed. “Nothing is ever going to be as good as my mom’s pumpkin soup,” he said, pointing the spoon back down into the bowl, “but that’s pretty damn good.”

“Pumpkin soup? Now that does sound delicious,” Elliott said, blowing on his own spoonful and taking a taste. He let out a similar noise and swallowed. “She makes it in autumn, then?”

“Late fall, yeah,” Sebastian said, carefully moving his spoon to take in a piece of the souffle along with the soup. “And for my birthday every year. She always breaks down a pumpkin and freezes it so it’ll last until my birthday.”

“When is your birthday again? December, yes?” Elliott asked.

“December twelfth,” Sebastian said, raising his head. “Why, are you going to buy me a present?”

“Of course. I always buy presents for those I care about,” Elliott said. Sebastian felt a slight heat come to his cheeks. He’d been teasing, but Elliott looked very serious. He cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember when your birthday is,” he said.

“October fifth,” Elliott said, lowering his soup spoon back into his bowl. “I fear I’m quite a Libra. And Sagittarius – that suits you.”

“I don’t know anything about astrology,” Sebastian said, stirring his spoon in his bowl. “It always seemed kind of weird.”

“Oh, it is, it’s utter rot,” Elliott chuckled. “But it can be fun to blame the stars for your own terrible decisions.”

Their conversation continued, as easy and comfortable as always, through their soup courses and into their entrees – coq au vin for Elliott, ahi tuna for Sebastian – and the food and drinks continued to be delicious. Sebastian felt the warmth in his chest spreading out into his upper arms. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed a meal this much, either the food or the company. By the time the waiter placed the dessert menus before them, Sebastian was halfway through his third cocktail and feeling extremely pleasant.

“So, what looks good for dessert?” Elliott asked. Sebastian furrowed his brow. In all honesty, he was pretty full from the soup and the tuna, which had been outstanding. It was almost like sashimi, just slightly cooked around the outside.

“Didn’t you say there was one you liked?” he asked Elliott, looking up.

“Oh, their plum tarte tatin? They only make that when plums are in season,” Elliott said. He tapped a finger against the menu. “But they do have their hot chocolate cake, if that appeals.”

“Nothing wrong with chocolate cake,” Sebastian said, putting his menu down. “Does it taste like hot chocolate?”

Elliott chuckled. “Not exactly,” he said, a small smile coming to his lips. “It has hot pepper chili powder in it. It’s _hot_ chocolate cake.”

“That sounds… kind of weird,” Sebastian said, furrowing his brows.

“It does,” Elliott admitted, “but the heat with the chocolate, and the ice cream they serve, it’s magnificent. Do you trust me?”

Sebastian looked across the table, considering the question. He didn’t usually think about trusting people. Certainly not people who had just come into his life such a short time ago. There were hardly any people in the world who he really _trusted._ Mom, yeah. Maru, mostly. Demetrius… was dependable, but Sebastian didn’t know if he trusted his stepfather. Sam and Abby, of course – except when they said they’d be there to help load up the bus. And Marnie, despite himself.

And Elliott. Sebastian realized suddenly how deeply and thoroughly he trusted Elliott. Elliott had been kind with him from their first conversation on the beach, he’d taken such good care of Sebastian, he’d talked with him like a human being, he’d cared for him and about him and had become so important to Sebastian that it made his head spin to think about.

“Yeah,” he said, quieter than before. He looked up at Elliott. “I trust you.”

~~~

Sebastian was going to dream about that cake for the rest of his life. That was what he was going to do. He had decided this, and nothing else was going to change his mind.

“Are you absolutely sure you’re up for going to the bar?” Elliott asked him, eyeing him carefully as they walked from the restaurant back up the steps to the riverwalk proper. Elliott had indulged in a couple of glasses of wine himself, but Sebastian could tell from how Elliott was looking at him that those cocktails had hit him harder than he’d realized.

“Yeah! Yeah, let’s go. It’ll be great,” he said, hardly recognizing the enthusiasm in his own voice.

“Mmm. We are definitely getting you a coffee first,” Elliott said. Sebastian caught himself giggling. He was going to have to remember the name of that drink. Emily could make it. Emily was so smart. She was so nice. She brought him the green from the desert and didn’t make him pay too much for it, like the kids in high school had.

The line at the coffee shop was longer than Sebastian would have expected at this time of night, but he amused himself by reading the names of the drinks aloud, stumbling over some of them. Elliott chuckled, indulging him, and then ordered Sebastian a very large, very hot coffee to go, and a small cappuccino for himself.

Sebastian felt himself sobering up a bit in the taxi on the way through downtown. Elliott had insisted, had said he didn’t want Sebastian walking that far in his current state. He looked out the window, watching as the lights of the city passed them by. The signs of businesses and clubs and restaurants and theaters – everything was so bright and powerful. Completely unlike home. He sipped at his coffee, enjoying the sting and heat as it went down his throat.

By the time they arrived at the bar, Sebastian felt much more clear-headed. He could hear the band playing from outside as they walked up. He saw Elliott reach for his wallet and reached out, taking Elliott’s wrist.

“Hey…” he said. Elliott looked up at him. Sebastian met his eyes. “Let me get this? And drinks here? Please? You’ve been paying for everything and I… I feel bad.”

Elliott slowly slid his wallet back into his pocket. “If you insist, if that would make you feel better, then of course.” He smiled. “After you.”

Sebastian pulled his own wallet out, handing the cover charge to the bouncer and stepping into the club. The interior was all dark wood and leather seats – black near the bar itself, white out by the tables. The band playing was pretty good, though the singer was just okay – and her outfit seemed out of place, too glitzy, too… much. It was then that he spotted the monitor with the words to the song being projected on it.

_Oh, right. Live band karaoke._

Sebastian was of two minds regarding karaoke. On the one hand, it was great to see someone completely nail it. On the other, it was almost better when they were completely awful. He’d seen some of the loudest cheering for people who couldn’t have carried a tune in a suitcase. He’d only been goaded into singing karaoke once, when Sam and Abby had egged him on and on and on until finally he’d relented. Being on stage, completely by himself, with all the eyes staring at him had unnerved him so completely that he’d vowed never to do it again.

Elliott’s hand was on his back. He looked up to see Elliott standing next to him. Elliott had to raise his voice slightly to be heard over the music. “There are some tables near the back. The music isn’t quite so loud there,” he said. Sebastian nodded and gave the thumbs-up. Elliott led them into a corner of the bar with tables and booths that continued the chic theme throughout. The woman singing finished and Sebastian could hear applause.

Elliott sat in one of the booths and Sebastian eagerly moved to the other side, so they were sitting near each other. He hesitantly reached for Elliott’s hand under the table and squeezed it. Elliott smiled at him with such visible pleasure that it made Sebastian’s nerves fall away.

“So, this is how you order, or put in a request to sing,” Elliott said, pointing to a small monitor at the end of the table. He tapped it and the screen came to life. Two buttons, DRINKS and SONGS appeared. Elliott tapped DRINKS and motioned for Sebastian to take over. Sebastian began to scroll through and was pleased when he saw an old-fashioned as an option. He pressed the button to order one and looked up at Elliott.

“No matter what I say, stop me when I’ve had seventeen,” he said. Elliott laughed outright.

“I think you’re well on your way,” he said, pressing a few buttons to order another glass of wine for himself. Sebastian inserted his card when he was instructed, then withdrew it. Further away, the karaoke host was introducing the next poor idiot who was going to make a fool of himself. Elliott stroked Sebastian’s hand with his thumb. “Are you enjoying the evening?” he asked.

“I am, yeah,” Sebastian said, looking back to Elliott’s face. “It’s been – it’s been great. Amazing, really. I mean, I’ve been here, to Zuzu, but I never did any of this.”

“There’s so much to do, it’s hard to fit it all in,” Elliott said. “I’m only hitting some of the highlights. Next time we come back, there are even more places I could take you to. And you can take me to some places, too.”

 _Next time._ Sebastian’s heart swelled at the thought. They would come back here. And go other places. And do things together. Like friends, but… more than that. Being with Elliott wasn’t the same as being with Sam or Abby. He loved Sam and Abby, they were his closest friends, he couldn’t imagine his life without either of them in it. But neither of them made him feel the way he was feeling now. Like the rest of the world was fading away. Like nothing else mattered.

Like there wasn’t a man standing near their table, looking at them. The man cleared his throat and when Elliott turned, the smile immediately dropped from his face. Sebastian glanced over. He was a decent-looking sort, probably in his early forties, with blue eyes and dark hair that was close-cropped and graying. His smile was friendly enough, but his eyes – Sebastian could see the chill in his eyes and sense the tensing of Elliott’s muscles.

“Fancy running into you here, Elliott,” the man said.

“James,” Elliott replied, his voice flat. “You look well.”

“As do you,” James – assuming that was his name – replied. He turned to Sebastian and held out his hand. “James Webb.” When Sebastian took his hand to shake, James gripped it harder than was necessary. He made sure his eyes were on Sebastian’s. “I’m Elliott’s ex. The one who got him through grad school and who he left right after.”

Sebastian felt a hard pit in his stomach, especially feeling Elliott bristle next to him. “Hardly a fair assessment,” Elliott said, his voice chilly. He turned to Sebastian. “Would you excuse me for just a moment? I won’t be long.” He let go of Sebastian’s hand and slid out of the booth, stepping away.

James gave a superficially friendly smile to Sebastian before releasing his hand. He followed Elliott about fifteen feet away until Elliott turned and looked at him.

“James, I’m not trying to be unfriendly, but I truly don’t see what purpose a conversation between us would have,” Elliott said, folding his arms.

“I can’t say hello after two years?” James asked him, giving him that vaguely condescending smile.

“Oh, I’d have no problem if you were merely saying hello, but you obviously have some other motive in mind,” Elliott said. “So, what do you want?”

“To see you,” James said, placing a finger in the middle of Elliott’s chest and dragging it upward. Elliott tensed. James paused and glanced up at him. “You’ve lost weight. You look good.”

“The starving artist lifestyle’s good for that,” Elliott replied flatly.

“Ah, yes. How many books have you managed to publish?” James asked. “I keep my eye on the bestseller list. Haven’t seen your name yet.”

“As a matter of fact, I’m in town to speak with my editor about my manuscript that I just finished,” Elliott said, feeling the taste of acid rise in the back of his throat. He did not like the direction of this conversation. “So perhaps you should continue keeping an eye out.”

“Ah, congratulations,” James said. Elliott was almost convinced by the tone of his voice, but the way he raised the middle of the word let him know James was hardly being sincere. “Is it a love letter to your boy toy?”

“He is not my boy toy,” Elliott said, narrowing his brows. “And even if he was, it would be absolutely no business of yours.”

“Ell, come now,” James said, glancing up at him. “I’m just surprised to learn you’re into goths.”

Elliott bit his tongue. He could feel the pressure at his back and the sides of his temples. James was trying to goad him into lashing out, to snapping back at him, just so that he could play the victim. Elliott knew it was what James was trying to do. He’d done it enough times before.

“I don’t feel like I need to continue this conversation any longer, or to justify who I spend my time with to you,” he said, starting to turn.

He was about to pass James when he heard, “You really haven’t slept with him, have you?” Elliott turned to see James looking past him.

“Why does that matter?” Elliott asked.

James glanced sideways. “Poor Elliott,” he said. “You really think someone that young, that shallow is going to be happy curled up next to that crocodile skin of yours, don’t you?”

The barb struck home hard, just as James had intended. Elliott felt his mouth and throat go dry. A cold sensation crashed over his entire body in one swoop. He could feel his eyes sting. But in the same moment, Elliott felt absolute clarity in his mind, for once and for all. He drew in a breath and turned to face James.

“Thank you,” he said simply.

Whatever reaction James had been expecting, that wasn’t it. He frowned. “For what?” he asked.

Elliott reached out and placed a hand on James’s shoulder. “For two years, every time I’ve been disappointed in myself, every time I have had a setback or have struggled, my mind has gone to what you would think of me if you saw me,” he said, voice slow and deliberate. “I used you, and how you treated me, as a metric for how I felt I should treat myself. And you just freed me from ever doing that again.” James’s frown deepened, but before he could say anything, Elliott leaned in and said, tone deep and final, “Goodbye, James.”

Sebastian had watched the entire exchange. He couldn’t make out what was being said, but the expressions on Elliott’s face had let him know their conversation wasn’t a friendly one. As Elliott turned to leave, James had said something that caused a look of such pain in Elliott’s expression that Sebastian had almost jumped up from where he was seated to confront the man. He stopped only because Elliott seemed to turn and respond with an expression of finality, and then stalked back to the booth, sliding in and offering an apologetic smile to Sebastian.

“I’m terribly sorry about that,” he said, picking up the glass of wine that had been delivered and taking a drink.

“He’s a real asshole, isn’t he?” Sebastian asked.

Elliott sighed, looking down at the table. He glanced back up and Sebastian could see the regret in his eyes. “Yes. I’m afraid he is,” Elliott said. He let out a long breath through his nose. “My biggest regret about our relationship isn’t that I spent time with him or that I was fooled into thinking he was a different person than he was, but that it took me so long to realize how awful he was to me.”

“Hey,” Sebastian said, reaching across to take Elliott’s hand again. Elliott smiled wanly. “You can’t beat yourself up over that. That’s on him, not you.”

“I wish it were,” Elliott said quietly. Sebastian quirked his head. Elliott looked back at him. “One of the things I’m most ashamed about is introducing his friend Kel to Leah,” he said. “It was… much the same. Kel could be very charming, but he was not good to her. Not at all. That’s what made Leah leave Zuzu City. What brought her to Pelican Town.”

“You couldn’t know he’d be like that,” Sebastian said.

Elliott shrugged. “Even so, I wish I could take it back,” he said. They sat in silence for a few moments longer. Then Elliott glanced over at the monitor. He reached over and pressed SONGS.

“No way,” Sebastian said, grinning. Elliott looked up with a very slight smile and Sebastian’s grin faded. This didn’t seem like it was going to be the fun sort of karaoke. He watched Elliott’s face as he pressed buttons, carefully moving through selections until he found the one he wanted. After selecting it, he typed his name in and pressed SEND.

“Well, that’s done,” he said with an exhale.

“I haven’t heard you sing before,” Sebastian said.

Elliott chuckled. “It isn’t much to talk about,” he said. “Nothing compared to you or Sam, anyway.”

Sebastian looked Elliott in the face. “Somebody told me once that it wasn’t a competition about who was better,” he said, unable to keep the small smile from his lips.

Elliott let out a mild noise of annoyance. “Well, if it isn’t the thoroughly predictable consequences of my own actions, coming back to haunt me,” he intoned. Sebastian laughed, though the look of grim determination in Elliott’s eyes worried him. Something had changed. James’s interruption, no matter how limited it was, had altered Elliott’s mood. Sebastian gently rested his fingers on the back of Elliott’s hand, stroking it softly. Elliott looked up, smiling gratefully. Sebastian reached over and punched the REFILL button. Elliott chuckled.

“Feel free to have another if you like, but I’m reaching my limit with this one,” he said, sipping the wine. “This is just to get me enough courage to go through with this.”

Sebastian nodded and hit a few buttons, removing Elliott’s glass of wine but leaving his own cocktail on the order. He was starting to feel warm again, with that pleasant fuzziness around his temples. The drinks were going down so easy now. He’d needed this night out more than he thought he had. It was so good to just let go and not worry about what anyone thought.

And then, the host came on the microphone. “Next up, we have Elliott! Elliott, where are you, man?”

Elliott took in a deep breath. He leaned in to Sebastian. “Wish me luck,” he said quietly, before sliding out of the booth. Sebastian watched as he strode through the crowd up toward the stage, more confident and calmer than Sebastian himself ever would be in this situation. The cheering increased as he neared the stage and stepped up, shaking the host’s hand.

“Elliott! You local or visiting?” the host asked, holding out the microphone.

“Visiting,” Elliott said. “Visiting from Pelican Town, in Stardew Valley.”

“Beautiful! What are you going to sing for us tonight?” the host asked.

“A song called ‘The General.’ For someone here who needs to hear it,” Elliott replied. A slight murmur ran through the crowd, the sort of anxious excitement that anticipation of someone else’s drama created.

“You heard him, folks,” the host said, stepping off to the side. “Take it away, Elliott!”

Elliott turned around and murmured something in the direction of the band. The guitarist nodded and Elliott turned, standing before the microphone. His eyes weren’t on the monitor, or anywhere, really. Behind him, the guitarist started hitting a few chords. Sebastian hadn’t recognized the name of the song, but he knew the melody. Normally it was in B-sharp major, but the guitarist had moved the key down about half a step. Elliott probably knew his own vocal limitations. The guitar was the only noise, playing a few isolated chords that caused the rest of the noise in the bar to come to a halt. Elliott remained in place, not moving, as the introduction played. The chords came to a halt.

And then Elliott raised his head as the guitarist came back. The words were fast and sharp, but he had the vocal precision to hit them all. He didn’t have the strongest singing voice Sebastian had ever heard, but the song didn’t require it. “There was a decorated general with a heart of gold that likened him to all the stories he told of past battles won and lost and legends of old, a seasoned veteran in his own time.”

Elliott kept his hands behind his back, singing into the microphone as though it were completely separate from him. Sebastian was surprised to hear his accent drop completely – he sang in a Ferngill accent. “On the battlefield, he gained respectful fame with many medals of bravery and stripes to his name. He grew a beard as soon as he could to cover the scars on his face, and always urged his men on.”

The drummer picked up with a rapid staccato beat that emphasized the pace of the words. “But on the eve of a great battle with the infantry in dream, the old general tossed in his sleep and wrestled with its meaning. He awoke from the night to tell what he had seen and walked slowly out of his tent. All the men held tall with their chests in the air, with the courage in their blood and a fire in their stare, and it was a – gray morning and they all wondered how they would fare. ‘Til the old general told them to go home.”

Everyone was silent again. Then the back-up singers joined Elliott on the chorus. He strained to hit the notes, but there was so much emotion in his voice that it didn’t seem to matter. “He said, ‘I have seen the others, and I have discovered that this fight is not worth fighting. And I’ve seen their mothers, and I will no other to follow me where I’m going. So, take your shower and shine your shoes. You got no time to lose. You are young men, you must be living.’” Elliott paused for a moment with the beat. “‘Take your shower and shine your shoes. You got no time to lose. You are young men, you must be living. Go now, you are forgiven.’”

Sebastian felt a chill run through him. He slowly moved out of the booth, picking up the fresh drink that had just been put on the table. He couldn’t take his eyes off Elliott. Elliott wasn’t hamming up for the performance at all. If anything, the look on his face seemed to lend a gravitas that karaoke rarely accomplished. The band was playing, probably softer than they needed to – Sebastian could tell their job wasn’t to necessarily play the song as it was, but to play it in a way that made the customer singing sound better.

Elliott placed a single hand on the microphone stand and leaned forward, closing his eyes. “But the men stood fast with their guns on their shoulders, not knowing what to do with their contradicting orders.” His words came at such rapid-fire pace Sebastian would have missed the meaning entirely if Elliott hadn’t been pronouncing them with such clarity. “The general said he would do his own duty, but he would extend it no further; the men could go as they pleased.”

He paused again, then leaned back. “But not a man moved. Their eyes gazed straight ahead, ‘til one by one they stepped back and not a word as said, and the old general was left with his own words echoing in his head. He then prepared to fight.”

On the second chorus, Elliott seemed to gain more confidence. He opened his eyes, looking out into the audience and his voice soared. “He said, ‘I have seen the others, and I have discovered that this fight is not worth fighting, no. And I’ve seen their mothers, and I will no other to follow me where I’m going. So take your shower and shine your shoes. You got no time to lose, you are young men, you must be living. Take your shower and shine your shoes. You got no time to lose, you are young men, you must be living. Go now, you are forgiven.’”

Sebastian stepped closer to the stage, watching Elliott and feeling his heart pound in his chest. This was something Elliott had to do. He realized it now. This was a song the likes of which Elliott would have written, where the words were far more important than the vocals or the melody. Sebastian felt gooseflesh break out over his skin as the song entered the final stage. He could see the emotion surging on Elliott’s face. He began to sing, quietly at first.

“Go now, you are forgiven. Go now, you are forgiven. Go now, you are forgiven, go.” The back-up singers added a few harmonies, but Elliott was clearly carrying the song by this point.

His voice raised in pitch and volume. He placed his other hand on the microphone stand, gripping it so tightly that Sebastian could even see the whitening of his knuckles from where he stood. “Go now, you are forgiven. Go now, you are forgiven. Go now, you are forgiven. Go – oo – ohhhhhh.”

Elliott roared out the last lines, with such pain in his voice and eyes that Sebastian wanted to run to the stage, to hold him, to comfort him. But the power of Elliott’s performance stopped him in his tracks. “Go now, you are forgiven! Go now, you are forgiven! Go now, you’ve got to be, got to be, got to be, got to be, got to be, heeeey.” He drew back, letting the microphone stand go. The guitarist played the final few chords, and then the bar was silent. For a few moments, Sebastian was horrified, and then the applause started, stronger than it had been before. It picked up and Sebastian quickly drained his drink and set his glass down. He turned and started clapping his hands together as strongly as he could.

Elliott gave a small smile. He placed his palms together and gave a slight bow. The host moved back to the stage. “Wow. Wow, wow, that was something, all right. Give it up for Elliott!” The cheering increased again and Elliott made his way from the stage, moving directly through the bar toward Sebastian. Sebastian wanted to say something, anything, but then Elliott had his arms around him and was hugging him close. He slid his own arms around Elliott and squeezed him tightly. Neither felt the need to say anything. Both of them knew what the other wanted to say.

~~~

Elliott helped Sebastian out of the cab, walking with him into the hotel. He kept his voice low and made sure his arm was around Sebastian all the while. “It’s just a bit more to the elevator. Then we’ll be back at our room and you can sleep as much as you want,” he said, voice gentle. As soon as Elliott had realized Sebastian was starting to slur his words and that he was having trouble keeping upright, he had quickly ordered a glass of water and a sports drink to go, and quietly insisted to Sebastian that they cut their evening short and return to the hotel so he could lie down.

Sebastian let out a low groan. His head was throbbing. He was only vaguely aware of where they were. He rarely got this drunk. Usually, he could hold it better. _Fucking old-fashioneds._ He was definitely going to stick to manhattans. They didn’t sneak up on him like this. He’d felt fine for so long – and then he hadn’t. Elliott continued to reassure him quietly as they entered the elevator, as they rose through the hotel, and as Elliott walked them down the hall to their room.

The room was dark, which suited Sebastian just fine. “No light,” he muttered, reaching up a hand to rub at his sore eyes.

“Of course,” Elliott said, moving with him over toward the bed. He gently helped Sebastian lie down. Sebastian’s head stopped spinning so badly and he let out a long breath of relief. He felt Elliott lift his legs up onto the bed and slip his boots off.

“Sebastian, do you want me to help you get into your pajamas, or no?” Elliott asked.

“No pajamas,” Sebastian groaned. “I just… just sleep in my boxers. I can get it.” He pushed himself up into a sitting position and began unbuttoning his shirt. He managed to get it off, then pulled at his tie. Wordlessly, Elliott moved in to help loosen the tie off his neck. Sebastian wanted to say something in gratitude, but barely managed to pull off his belt and unbuckle his pants. He lifted his hips to slide them down and groaned at the sudden movement, dropping his head back to the pillow.

Elliott carefully, gently, helped Sebastian remove his pants and folded them, setting them on the nearby chair. Sebastian rolled into the fetal position, closing his eyes and wishing for the sweet release of death. He could hear Elliott moving about in the room, clearly trying to be quiet as he prepared for bed. He heard Elliott brushing his teeth from the bathroom – bless him, Elliott had left the door closed while the light was on, so only the slightest illumination came from under the door.

Sebastian had no idea how much time had passed before Elliott came back to bed. He was wearing some soft cotton pajamas and had a tall glass of water in his hand.

“Darling, you need to drink this,” he said, helping Sebastian sit up and placing the glass in his hands. “And I have some painkillers, that will help with your head.” Sebastian wordlessly brought the glass to his mouth and started drinking, slowly. He held his hand out and felt Elliott place a couple of small pills inside. Sebastian stopped drinking and put the pills in his mouth before he continued to finish off the water. When he finished, Elliott took the glass from him and brought it back to the bathroom.

Elliott climbed into the other end of the bed. Fuck. _Fuck._ They were here, in bed together, something Sebastian had wanted for so long, and he was too drunk for anything. He pushed himself up on his elbow. He had to tell Elliott. He had to tell him what he needed, what he felt, what he wanted.

Elliott carefully slid into the sheets. They were soft and warm, much nicer than the ones he had on the bed in his cabin. He looked over as Sebastian moved closer to him. He could see a look of concern, or pain, or some sort of discomfort on Sebastian’s face. He felt his brows furrow and he slid closer. “What is it?” he asked. “Is something –”

And then Sebastian was kissing him. Lips against his, hand on Elliott’s cheek, slightly trembling, but absolutely kissing him. The unexpectedness took Elliott completely by surprise. He hadn’t expected Sebastian to be so demonstrative, or to be kissing him with such need and longing. Elliott was just inebriated enough himself to let his eyes close and to sink into the feeling, sliding his arms around Sebastian and returning his kiss slowly but with building desire.

Sebastian let out small noises as he kissed Elliott. Elliott wasn’t sure if they were whimpers or moans or just sounds of need. Yoba, he had wanted this for so long. He had longed to feel Sebastian against himself, to taste Sebastian, to know his body, to join together. But then the thunderbolt hit him. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t take advantage of Sebastian when he was in this state. Elliott had no idea if Sebastian would act this way when sober, and that thought was enough to make him reluctantly pull away. Sebastian tried to move forward, to keep pressing their lips together, but Elliott placed a hand on his cheek and spoke quietly.

“No. Sebastian, no,” he said softly. “We can’t do this. Not now.”

“Please.” The desperation in Sebastian’s voice nearly broke Elliott’s heart. He opened his eyes and Elliott could see the pain in them even in the dim light of the hotel room. “Please, Elliott. Please. I need you. I need – I’ve wanted this – I need…”

“Bastian,” Elliott said, taking Sebastian’s hands in his own. “Bastian, please listen to me.” He tried to speak as clearly and calmly as he could. “You are very, very, very drunk. You can’t even walk on your own. And even if you do want this, even if you want this entirely, we can’t do this now. You can’t consent when you’re like this. We might end up doing something you regret, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hurt you like that.”

“Please,” Sebastian sounded as though he were on the verge of tears. “Elliott, please. I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long. Please.”

“I know,” Elliott said, leaning up to kiss Sebastian’s forehead. “I know, darling. I want this, too. But I want it when we’re both completely clear-headed. Tomorrow, if you still want this, I promise.” He brought a hand up, putting it on Sebastian’s cheek. “Look at me, please.” Sebastian looked up into Elliott’s kind eyes. “I promise you, tomorrow when you are back to your full senses, if you still want this then, I would be overjoyed to make love with you. I would be so happy to. But I can’t now. You’re drunk. It wouldn’t be right. Please, do you understand?”

Sebastian felt heat stinging at the back of his eyes. The words were orbiting around him. Elliott was telling him no, he knew that. But there was kindness, always kindness there. And Elliott felt so good. Kissing him had made something happen inside of Sebastian – a switch had been flipped, and he could feel there was something different now inside of him. He dropped his head down to the pillow and shut his eyes as tightly as he could.

“Bastian.” Elliott’s voice was still there and he could feel that soft hand on his arm. “Do you want me to stay here?”

Sebastian didn’t respond. Instead, he moved closer until he was completely against Elliott. The arms encircled him again, and Sebastian breathed in Elliott’s scent, feeling the soft fuzziness start to envelop his brain. Everything was so warm and soft and gentle. _Tomorrow._ Tomorrow was important. He couldn’t remember why. But he knew tomorrow something was going to happen. Slowly, the cloud pushed away all the other thoughts. Elliott was here. He was here and he was holding Sebastian, and Sebastian could feel and smell and practically taste him. _Tomorrow._

And then he was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Before anything else, YOU GUYS. [TAKE A LOOK AT THIS.](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d63c7cb1526cf31f760f79cc8dfdec35/4d90b0e4d171a9a2-4d/s2048x3072/5ef629d9255ca2666f7295ea758fd33d87d0c805.png)
> 
> The amazing [atlasio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlasio/pseuds/atlasio) drew me fanart. I GOT FANART. She captured all the details of the Solarian Chronicles scene so beautifully, from Becca laughing to Sebastian’s adoring look at Elliott to even the color of the dice everyone was rolling. Words cannot describe how much I love it and how grateful I am to atlasio for being so kind and thoughtful and making this amazing piece. If you want to check out her Tumblr and her other work, it’s found [here](https://atlasio.tumblr.com/). Go give her all the praise in the world.
> 
> Now onto the notes for this chapter. This was another chapter that completely got away from me, reaching 34 pages. I could have probably ended it after the scene in the bar with Elliott singing, but I felt like I had dragged Elliott and Sebastian’s first kiss out for way, way too long and it had to happen now. The song Elliott sang, [“The General,”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q8P0zHkybDI) was one I listened to a lot when I got out of a very, very bad relationship. Forgiveness is an incredibly important part of healing from someone who has hurt you, less for them and more for yourself – I intended for the most powerful line from the song, “Go now, you are forgiven,” to be just as much Elliott directing it at himself as he was at James.
> 
> Next chapter, our long national nightmare is finally over. We’re going to get the first full-on sex scene between Elliott and Sebastian, but we’re also going to get some important conversations between them about their relationship and what they want from each other. We’ll also get to meet the dreaded Cynthia and see if she can whip Elliott into shape. I’m really, really looking forward to the next chapter, particularly as it will post on New Year’s Day.
> 
> The last thing I want to note is that this week we hit three major milestones with this fic. We crossed 100,000 words and passed 200 pages in Microsoft Word (crazy to think about how much I’ve written in eight weeks). And, much more meaningfully to me, we are just about to hit 1000 views of this story, which blows my mind. You guys have been so incredibly thoughtful and generous and kind with your feedback and I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it. I hope next week is all you’ve been waiting for and that this turning point in Elliott and Sebastian’s relationship is as meaningful for you as it will be for them (and for me). Thank you all for your support and feedback; it’s meant the world to me. I’ll see you next week, guys!


	9. Beneath the Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, guys. If you’d been waiting for some action between Sebastian and Elliott, this is your chapter. The song I listened to while writing this chapter was “Beyond This Moment” by Patrick O’Hearn, found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v_nWBzeWQW4).

“Sex without love is as hollow and ridiculous as love without sex.”  
-Hunter S. Thompson

Elliott carefully shut the bathroom door behind himself, moving to the table to pick up the folder with his manuscript. He was glad that Sebastian seemed to be a deep sleeper – at least, he hoped that was the case. Either Sebastian was a deep sleeper or he was in the grip of a world-ending hangover. Elliott had set his alarm on his phone to vibrate and placed it in the shirt pocket of his pajamas so it wouldn’t wake Sebastian. He knew he would have to get up early to go through his morning routine before heading out to meet Cynthia.

As much as he wanted to focus on the morning ahead and what he needed to go over with Cynthia, Elliott couldn’t get the prior night out of his head. Sebastian had kissed him with such need. The noises he made were desperate, and his pleas doubly so. It had taken all of Elliott’s willpower to hold strong. He was glad now that he had, even as it had hurt in the moment to see Sebastian’s crushed expression. If he’d woken this morning and realized he’d taken advantage of Sebastian while he was drunk, Elliott would have… well, he didn’t know what he would do, but he knew it wouldn’t be pleasant.

Elliott paused at the foot of the bed, looking up at Sebastian’s expression. He looked so peaceful when he slept. He always did. Elliott’s heart throbbed in his chest and he had to close his eyes to focus on his breathing. He had to go. Cynthia was expecting him. If he didn’t go, he’d be in major trouble. But he didn’t want to leave Sebastian here, alone in the city. He’d seen the fear and anxiety on Sebastian’s face the day before.

Then again, with how much he had drunk, there was no guarantee Sebastian was going to get up anytime soon.

Elliott ultimately moved to the small refrigerator and pulled out the sports drink he’d gotten from the bar before they had left. He brought it with him to the bedside and set it carefully on the end table next to the painkillers he’d set out. He knelt next to the bed and carefully placed his hand on Sebastian’s face, gently stroking his cheek.

Sebastian’s eyes fluttered open with the confusion of the newly awoken. Elliott could see the sleepiness and discomfort in his eyes. He smiled gently at Sebastian and quietly said, “Good morning.” Sebastian made a small noise in the back of his throat. Elliott continued, “I have to go to my meeting now. I won’t be very long. If your head hurts or you’re feeling poorly, I’ve left some tablets here. And try to drink this. It’ll help if you’re dehydrated.” Sebastian closed his eyes and nodded. Elliott leaned forward and kissed the crown of his head.

“When I get back, we’ll get some lunch if you feel up to it. Go back to sleep,” he said. Sebastian nodded again and Elliott had to fight back the urge to stay and continue pressing kisses against Sebastian.

He stood and made sure the folder with his manuscript was carefully tightened. He left the room, closing the door quietly behind himself and walking to the elevator. He pressed the down button and checked his watch. It was half past nine. The hotel was barely four blocks from Zuzu Continental’s headquarters. He had plenty of time, but Elliott was the sort of person who could not bear to be late to anything. Especially something as important as this.

He had been surprised when he moved to Ferngill and started taking classes at Zuzu State how he was always the only one in the seminar classroom ten minutes early. The other students would come trickling in a few minutes early, right on time, or even – horrors – five minutes late. The professors would usually amble in right at the start of class. When he would meet people for drinks or dates or, well, anything, he had to learn to adjust his expectations. When they said they would meet at six, that usually meant 6:05, or occasionally 6:10. He’d learned to arrive closer to the start time.

Elliott pushed out of the hotel’s front doors and began his walk down the busy boulevard. It was already warm. Summers, even early summers, in the city were always hot. He had debated whether to wear his overcoat to the meeting, but ultimately decided on it. He didn’t want to have sweat showing through his shirt. He could always shower again when he returned, perhaps change into something lighter.

Elliott found his mind drifting as he walked. The night before kept bubbling up to the surface, the thoughts and feelings of Sebastian’s lips against his, the jolt of desire that surged through him, how he’d barely managed to push back against it. Everything in him had wanted to pull his pajamas off and feel Sebastian’s body against his own, to feel Sebastian inside of him, to join their bodies together. But he couldn’t. Not when Sebastian was that far gone.

But if what Sebastian had said was true, if he did want Elliott that badly… Elliott didn’t expect they were going to do much in the way of sightseeing for the rest of their trip.

Elliott turned at the intersection and glanced ahead to the tall building with a large ZCP logo outside and smoked glass panes. Almost there. In more ways than one. He tightened his grip on the folder and briskly walked the last block and a half. There was no point in being tardy. It would take some time to check in and make his way up to Cynthia’s office. Better to arrive early and wait a few minutes with his thoughts than to be rushing in at the last moment.

Elliott pushed through the doors to the building and proceeded to the reception desk. The receptionist looked up from his computer and offered a small smile.

“Good morning, my name is Elliott Rourke,” Elliott said. “I have a ten o’clock appointment with my editor, Cynthia Jarvis.”

“One moment, please,” the receptionist said, checking the calendar on his computer. Once he verified Elliott’s information, he nodded and pulled out the registration book. “Sign in here, date and time,” he said, providing a ballpoint pen.

Elliott signed his name with the flourish he always gave – _good practice for when someone asks for an autograph_ – and jotted down the date and, after a quick check of his watch, the time.

The receptionist checked the entry and folded the book back. “The elevators are to your left. The Editorial Department is on the fifteenth floor. Have a pleasant day,” he said.

“Thank you, and the same to you,” Elliott said, turning from the desk and moving through the lobby toward the elevators. A small water feature and some plants adorned one side of the lobby, no doubt to give a sense of hominess. There hadn’t been anything like this at the Joja Corp headquarters the few times Elliott had come to meet James at his office before they headed for lunch. Everything about Joja was clean and sterile and cold. No personality, not like this place.

When Elliott arrived on the fifteenth floor, he turned and made his way through the doors to the Editorial Department. A small area with chairs greeted him, and he could hear the sounds of chatter, typing on computers, and phones ringing through the office. Cynthia had told him to make himself at home and wait for her to show up. And so he did, sitting in the chair furthest from the door and drumming his fingers absent-mindedly on the plastic folder.

He had been fortunate to have Cynthia be assigned to him when he signed with Zuzu Continental. She was efficient but warm, kind enough to be encouraging while also offering pointed reminders to keep him on track. She was an excellent editor for a fledgling writer. In many ways, she reminded him of Lady Anne – only about twenty years younger, shorter, and lacking the sophisticated accent.

Lady Anne had the same kind but firm temperament. She had treated Elliott as though he were her own grandson, despite him being the child of her servants. She was the one who encouraged him to learn to play the piano, who had permitted him to take any book from her extensive library that he wished to read, who had told him that he should pursue his dreams. He had been incredibly anxious when mum had encouraged him to ask Lady Anne’s advice about speaking with Brendan. He had worried Lady Anne might think ill of him or encourage him to pursue a nice girl instead. But mum had insisted, and during his weekly tea with Lady Anne (always at the proper guest’s table, always with him dressed his best, always with her wanting to know how his schooling was going and whether he needed anything), he had stammered out his question. When she had been quiet for a few moments, Elliott had wanted to scream and run. But then she spoke.

_“I see that look on your face. Do you think this shocks me?” Lady Anne had asked him, staring at him through her thick glasses. “Sixty years ago, I inherited this very title because my brother was pushed off a boat by the enraged wife of one of his lovers. Yoba bless him, he was a dunce. Never had the sense to find another unattached man and be a confirmed bachelor. And of course, mother and father arranged for the papers to describe it as a tragic boating accident. That was just what one did in those days. Now come,” she’d motioned for Elliott to stand nearer to her. “If we’re going to get you a nice young man, we need to figure out how you’re going to present yourself like a proper gentleman.”_

He missed Lady Anne terribly. She was the closest thing he had to a grandmother; his actual grandparents had all died before he was born, and mum and dad were a little older when they married and had him. She was the one who ensured in her will that there was money for him to go to school wherever and for how long he wanted. International graduate tuition wasn’t cheap. He would never have come to Ferngill, to study at Zuzu State without her money. He would never have written “The Indigo Stain.” He would never have been brushed off by James and fled to Pelican Town.

He would never have met Sebastian.

He had been lucky. So very lucky. Lady Anne had treated mum and dad well, had left them a sizable pension and enough to live on the rest of their lives, but they had worked very hard for her. Dad drove her wherever she needed to go and took care of maintaining the property along with the cars. Mum took care of the house and the cleaning and washing and cooking. He’d pitched in when school was out for a little extra money. And they’d lived above the carriage house. It was part of their salary, having a place to live and food to eat. Mum had always told him that if Lady Anne hadn’t been so generous, they would never have been able to have children. And it turned out he was the only one. Mum’s pregnancy had been difficult. She’d been on bed rest the final two months. And she never made him feel guilty about it - _“You were my little miracle. I would have given anything to have you,”_ she had always said.

_I need to give mum a call._

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of a door opening and shuffled footsteps on the carpeted floor. Cynthia entered the reception area and gave Elliott a smile, extending her hand. He returned the smile and stood, taking her hand and shaking it.

“Elliott, thank you for always being so punctual,” she said, looking up at him. Cynthia couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, with dusky skin, hair the color of steel, tortoiseshell glasses and a demeanor that reminded him quite a bit of Evelyn Mullner.

“Of course, it’s lovely to see you again,” Elliott said, releasing her hand. “Thank you for fitting me in so quickly.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Cynthia said, turning. “Right this way.” She led him down the hall to her office, holding the door open for him and closing it once he had stepped in and taken a seat. She sat in her chair, their heights now much closer to one another, and folded her hands, resting them on the desk. “So, I’ve read the manuscript,” she began.

“Yes,” Elliott said, feeling his stomach flip. He knew what she said next was going to determine how easy or difficult his life was going to be for the next short while.

“I’m pleased,” she said, and Elliott relaxed significantly. “It’s a very good book. It’s not a great book, not yet, but that’s what you have me for. I have about eight or nine things I’d like us to go over in our meeting today, things I want you to go back and revise – or not, if you feel particularly strongly about them – and then we can discuss the next steps. But I don’t anticipate this taking the entire two hours.”

“Marvelous,” Elliott said, opening his folder and pulling out the manuscript. “I have my own copy here, like you asked.”

“Excellent,” Cynthia said, adjusting her glasses and pulling up the file on her computer. “So, the big one. I hate the ending.” Elliott felt his smile falter, but Cynthia held up a hand. “Now, to be clear. What I hate isn’t what happens, it’s how you organized it. This is the climactic battle, and everything that the book has been leading to. More important than anything else, yes?”

“Yes,” Elliott agreed.

“So, instead of structuring it like you did, where you’re changing perspectives every paragraph, and making it unclear whose perspective we’re getting at any time, I want you to reorganize this,” Cynthia said, pulling a sheet off her printer. She showed it to Elliott. He recognized the breakdown on the left – the major players, Seamus, General Hollings, Inari, and the sequence of events that transpired. On the right, the same events were placed, but organized out by character. Elliott looked up at Cynthia.

“You want me to run through the battle three times?” he asked.

“Precisely,” Cynthia said. She met his gaze. “What you wrote was each event as it was transpiring, cutting from one side to the next to the next and back and forth. Very much what an actual battle would be like. And extremely confusing. We want the reader to be able to follow along how everything _should be_ , not necessarily how it _is._ Give this a try. Save the chapters as they are, but then open another file and try reorganizing them. If it doesn’t work, or it feels awful, we can work with what you have, but I’m willing to bet this is going to clear up a lot of confusion.”

Over the next ninety minutes, Cynthia and Elliott discussed the trajectory of _When Stars Collide_ , the points of concern Cynthia had, and what Elliott was hoping to accomplish with the book. On some points, Elliott acquiesced readily. On others, he pushed back, and Cynthia crossed a few of these off her list, satisfied with his response.

It was just past 11:30 when Cynthia got to the last item on her list. She looked up at Elliott. “All right, I think we’ve saved possibly the stickiest one for last,” she said. “And this is one where I’m willing to hear your perspective and I’m mostly asking because of how we’re going to be publishing the book. It’s not so much my question as one I know the higher-ups will want to know the answer to.”

“Go ahead,” Elliott said.

Cynthia folded her hands again and looked across at him. “Would you be willing to consider changing Inari from male to female?”

Elliott felt a tight knot in his stomach. He adjusted his posture and cleared his throat. “Not – not particularly,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm.

Cynthia nodded, as though that were the answer she was expecting. “Why not?” she asked.

“Because that isn’t the story I wrote,” Elliott said. “I wrote a story about two men from different cultures, different planets, different beliefs, who fell in love. Their love story is what drives the entire narrative, from when they encounter each other on their respective missions, to hiding from the galactic forces, to their realization of how similar they are despite their differences. To change that would…” he trailed off. Eventually, he looked up. “No. I’m not willing to compromise on this. I’d have to rewrite the entire book. And it wouldn’t be the story I wanted to tell.”

Cynthia considered his answer, and then smiled. “I’m glad to hear you say that,” she said. “Because quite honestly, I feel the same. But I have bosses whose concerns aren’t how good a story is, it’s whether it will sell or not.” She set her pen down on the desk. “I’ve had a lot of brilliant work turned away because the men upstairs didn’t believe it would sell, and I’ve seen a lot of brilliant work made less so because the author capitulated too easily. When I bring this book to them, they’ll ask if we can change the romance. Having you be firm on this means I can take that fight upstairs and argue that it would alter the story for worse, and that the author isn’t willing to compromise. Now, they are probably going to want to publish this in the LGBT fiction branch instead of the sci-fi branch, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

“Why not in sci-fi?” Elliott asked.

Cynthia exhaled. She adjusted her glasses and looked at Elliott sympathetically. “Because if there is one thing the publishing world loves, it’s putting things in boxes,” she said. “That goes for books and people both. The question isn’t ‘will it sell?’, it’s ‘who will buy it?’, and that makes all the difference. We have to promote it to the correct audience. That’s the business.”

Elliott paused. “Do you know what my favorite sci-fi book of all time is?” he asked. Cynthia shook her head. “It’s _The Left Hand of Darkness_.”

“Excellent choice,” Cynthia said.

“When it was published, sci-fi was written by straight white men for straight white men,” Elliott said. “And LeGuin wrote her book from the perspective of a Black man who slowly comes to find another man as the most important relationship in his life. He might even be in love with Estraven. She didn’t reveal that Genly is Black until about eight chapters in. She did so deliberately so that the mostly straight white male readership identified and empathized with the character, and so that they were forced to realize that his experiences were very much like their own. To live, to work, to love, to try one’s best. Universal experiences, for a readership that at the time was not accustomed at all to experiencing them. Now, I’m not saying that my book is another _Left Hand of Darkness_ , but I want it to be published where people will read it. And if people who might not be expecting a love story between two men pick it up and read it and experience it in a similar way, then that…” he trailed off. “That would make a lot of difference.”

Cynthia was quiet for a moment. Then she smiled again. “You’re not the typical first-time author that I see,” she said.

Elliott returned her smile. “I don’t think you’re the typical editor, either,” he said.

Cynthia picked her glasses back up and placed them on her face. “I’ll bring the argument upstairs,” she said. “I can’t promise anything, I don’t have the final say on it, but I’ll express your wishes and make the case where I can.”

Elliott relaxed. “You’re a wonder, Cynthia,” he said.

“And don’t you forget it,” she said. “Very well. So, we have our list of what needs to be done. If you can make these changes and get them back to me in, say… between a month and six weeks, I should be able to put this in the queue for our fall publishing slate. Which is good news for you, because winter, around the Feast of the Winter Star, that’s our big buying time, so there will be the chance for reviews to come out and some word of mouth to gather. If you hadn’t gotten this in until the second before it was due, there’s no way you would have made it on the fall slate.”

Elliott felt slightly lightheaded. “Does that mean you’re accepting the book, then?” he asked.

“Of course,” Cynthia said, looking at him. “Elliott, you’re an incredibly talented writer. We’d be foolish not to accept this. And if it sells, if we get some indication that readers are interested, we’ll probably want to sign you to a multi-book contract. If that meets your liking, of course.”

“That,” Elliott paused as a nervous giggle escaped him. “Yes, that would very much meet my liking. Thank you, Cynthia. Thank you so very much.”

~~~

Sebastian finally managed to drag himself out of bed at 11:40. His head hurt, his neck hurt, his back hurt, his stomach hurt. He vaguely recalled Elliott waking him up to tell him he was leaving, but he’d drifted back to sleep almost immediately. The sports drink wasn’t cold, but it was still slightly chilled. It tasted like the nectar of the gods going down and Sebastian managed to stop drinking it just long enough to pop the painkillers in his mouth and chase them with the rest of the fluorescent liquid.

_It tastes like orange. The color, not the fruit._

He felt sweaty and gross. He needed a shower. Elliott was going to be back soon. And then they’d go to lunch and… do something else. Sebastian rubbed at his eye with his palm as he moved through the room. The night before was hazy. He remembered walking along the river, their meal, going to the club. After that, things started to get blurry. He couldn’t remember much past their arrival at the club. Elliott talking with his ex – Yoba, that guy was a dick – and singing something. But past that, he didn’t remember anything until this morning.

Sebastian sighed as he reached for a change of clothes. It was too hot today to wear his hoodie. He had packed a few nicer t-shirts, the ones that he hadn’t been wearing for so long that they were threadbare. A clean pair of boxers and socks, and his jeans, and he’d be ready to go. He moved into the bathroom and paused, looking at the spread of products and bottles on the counter. Elliott’s hair routine. And some creams and lotions and… Sebastian didn’t even know what.

_It’s got to be hard to be that good-looking._

Sebastian set his clothes on the counter and leaned into the shower. He was relieved to see the Crossroads wasn’t one of those hotels that required you to have a degree in mechanical engineering to figure out how to turn the shower on. He started the water flow and pulled the knob to start the shower, then stepped away, letting the water warm up. He glanced back to the counter. He couldn’t imagine going through that routine every single morning, though he had to admit the results were worth it. Elliott was beautiful. Just the sight of him was enough to make Sebastian’s heart ache.

Near the sink, Sebastian spotted a small glass bottle with an amber-colored fluid inside. Elliott’s cologne. He moved over to it and picked it up. It was barely a third full. He brought it to his nose and inhaled. The scent of Elliott curled up through his nose and around his brain, causing a soft warmth to spread throughout his chest and arms. Sebastian exhaled, the breath moving from him but the heat remaining.

“Fuck,” he whispered. The cologne bottle suddenly felt heavy in his hand and he set it down on the counter as carefully as he could. He was going to have to talk to Elliott _today._ One way or the other, he had to end this. The steam from the shower began to fog the mirror. Sebastian didn’t bother to look in it before his reflection faded. He dropped his boxers to the floor and stepped into the shower, letting out a low groan at the heat and the wet. The ache in his shoulders and back started feeling better almost immediately.

_I could get used to a shower like this._

Sebastian took his time leisurely shampooing his hair, using the fancy shower gel in the small bottles, and otherwise luxuriating under the powerful spray. By the time he turned the shower off, his skin was nearly glowing red from the heat and he felt worlds better. He stepped out of the shower and began toweling off. The mirror was completely fogged up and the steam in the bathroom was palpable. He carefully dried himself before he applied deodorant and pulled his clothes on. He almost felt sweat coming to his forehead from how warm and steamy the bathroom was.

He stepped out and stopped in his tracks to see Elliott standing there, clearly waiting for him. As Sebastian exited the shower, Elliott moved forward and put his arms around him, hugging him tightly. Sebastian leaned into the embrace and brought his own arms up and around Elliott. “Good news?” he asked.

“They want some revisions done, but they’re going to try to have it published and out sometime in autumn,” Elliott said. Sebastian could hear the barely contained joy in his voice, and it made his heart sing.

“That’s great! Elliott, that’s so great,” Sebastian said, squeezing him again. “I’m so proud of you. I’m so – I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Elliott tucked his head against Sebastian’s, and for a long, beautiful moment, everything felt right. Everything was so comfortable, everything felt like it was where it belonged. Sebastian didn’t want to let go of Elliott, now or ever. He closed his eyes, breathing in Elliott’s scent again and feeling his insides go soft.

_I could die right now, and I’d be happy._

Elliott gently kissed Sebastian’s temple and moved his head back. “I have to admit, I’m quite peckish,” he said. “I’ve been up for a few hours and I haven’t had anything. Would you like to go to lunch?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good,” Sebastian said. Elliott grinned.

“Marvelous,” he said. He stepped back, releasing Sebastian from the hug and took his hand, squeezing it. “Get ready for quite a treat. There’s a Café Saucier only a few blocks from here.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened. “Oh, yeah. No, let’s go,” he said, hurrying to grab his shoes and put them on.

~~~

Marguerite Delacroix (née Daisy Sue McGillicuddy) was unquestionably the most famous chef in Ferngill. She’d risen from obscurity and a thankless line cook job with her self-published cookbook, the one that was in nearly every Ferngill kitchen. With a personality as bold as her flavors, the self-professed Queen of Sauce parlayed her new fame into opening a restaurant in Zuzu City that almost immediately had a six-month waitlist. Anyone who was anyone ate at Maison Saucier, and the Queen of Sauce quickly had demand for more cookbooks, more recipes, more, more, more. Her television show had been running for close to fifteen years now, two new episodes a week, and while she hadn’t personally cooked a thing in her restaurant’s kitchen in ages, she was still one of the most popular and well-regarded chefs in the world.

When the waitlist at Maison Saucier stretched to a year, the Queen of Sauce opened a series of less-expensive café restaurants through Zuzu City and in the major cities throughout the rest of the nation. Cafés Saucier weren’t _quite_ as exclusive, or _quite_ as good, but they were the best option for anyone who wanted to try the Queen of Sauce’s most treasured recipes and not give up a month’s salary for the pleasure.

The Café Saucier in central downtown Zuzu City was one of the first that opened, and even on a Wednesday the lunch rush was significant. Sebastian found himself stepping closer to Elliott as they entered the sleek restaurant. Art from overseas hung on the walls, the waitstaff busied themselves darting to and from the kitchen, and the smell of spices and garlic and baked goods permeated the entryway.

Thankfully, they appeared to have arrived at the tail end of the lunch rush, and only had to wait a few minutes before being seated. This place was a far cry from the night before, with the intimacy of their table on the patio, the quiet sound of the river gurgling past, their easy, calm conversation, and the only interruption being the waiter bringing their food or another drink. Now they had to keep their voices slightly elevated to be heard over the chatter from the other tables, had to keep their chairs close to the table itself, and had to make sure any questions they had about the menu were short.

But it was still a Café Saucier. Sebastian had practically vibrated with excitement the entire walk over, much to Elliott’s amusement. Once they settled in and placed their orders, Elliott looked across the table and said, “All right, out with it. What’s got you so excited about this?”

“I grew up watching the Queen of Sauce,” Sebastian said, his smile wide. “Mom had her cookbook and when I was little, she’d always watch and make notes about easy meals to make. And everything she made on her show looked so good. I’ve always wanted to come and eat in one of her restaurants.”

“Sebastian, you should have said something,” Elliott said. “I might have been able to see if we could get in at Maison Saucier.”

“No, no, this is good. This is awesome,” Sebastian said, his eyes shining. “I am so excited for this, you have no idea. And we have to get a slice of the pink cake. Haley wouldn’t shut up about it after her folks took her to Maison for her birthday one year.”

Elliott laughed. “Fair enough. But if it’s that good, I might not shut up about it myself,” he said. Their coffees arrived and Sebastian took a long sip, letting out a small groan as the caffeine hit him.

“I needed that,” he said, leaning forward and closing his eyes.

“You definitely had a good bit to drink last night,” Elliott said, cautiously testing the waters. “I was worried you might get sick.”

Sebastian felt a slight burn of shame across the back of his neck. _Fuck. I probably acted a fool._ “Yeah, uh… sorry if I said or did anything crazy,” he said, smiling apologetically over the rim of his cup. “It was the booze talking.”

Elliott felt a sharp pang in his chest. _He doesn’t remember. Of course he doesn’t._ He managed a smile. “No harm done,” he said. “I’m just glad you aren’t suffering the way I did when I overindulged at the Stardrop.”

Sebastian chuckled. “I guess that means we’re even, then,” he said, lifting his coffee mug. Elliott raised his in return and they clinked mugs across the table.

“Well, then,” Elliott said, trying his best to keep the tone of his voice light. “What would you like to do today after we eat?”

 _You._ The thought came unbidden and Sebastian tried to will it away. “Um, I’m up for pretty much anything,” he said. He took another sip of coffee, partly because it was feeling so good and partly because he wanted some time to think. “You’re the one who knows Zuzu so well. Anywhere you want to go, we can go.”

“I’m sure I can come up with something,” Elliott said, eyes lighting up as a basket of the Queen of Sauce’s famous cranberry wheat croissants were placed on the table. He picked up a croissant and began buttering it. “We could walk through the campus, if you’re so inclined. It shouldn’t be too busy. There aren’t ever as many people there over summer as they are during the spring or fall semesters.”

Sebastian was busy buttering his own croissant. “Yeah, that sounds good,” he said. He bit into the bread and almost felt tears come to his eyes. The sharpness of the cranberry cut through the warmth and flakiness of the croissant. It was one of the best things he’d ever eaten. He reached for another before he even finished the first.

Elliott quietly chewed on his own croissant, watching and enjoying the pleasure on Sebastian’s face as he ate. Sebastian had never been this demonstrative or overt about what brought him joy when Elliott first knew him. _We’ve grown so much together, darling._ Though Elliott was tempted to make a quiet joke about how much Sebastian was clearly enjoying the bread, he kept it to himself. He knew Sebastian was sensitive about being poked fun at, even about something relatively innocent like eating croissants.

Sebastian realized that Elliott was looking at him suddenly and paused mid-chew. _Shit. I’m just sitting here eating like a glutton._ He swallowed his bite of croissant and put the rest of the bread down on his plate. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m just stuffing my face and you probably wanted to keep talking.”

“Don’t apologize,” Elliott said. “I know how excited you are to eat here. It makes me happy to see you this happy.”

Sebastian felt his heart splash into his stomach acid. He knew the flush was showing on his cheeks. He managed to get out, “Doesn’t mean you want to see me with my cheeks all full like a chipmunk.”

Elliott laughed. “Actually, you look rather adorable with your cheeks stuffed like that,” he said.

Their lunches were as delicious as the croissants had been. Elliott’s crab cake sandwich was prepared masterfully, topped with a remoulade sauce that he claimed he would be dreaming about. Sebastian had remembered seeing the Queen of Sauce’s eggplant parmesan from when he was very young, and it had been worth the wait – the breading was crisp, the sauce acidic and flavorful, and the cheese melted to perfection.

As they ate, Sebastian gradually felt himself sliding back into the comfortability he always felt around Elliott. It was just the two of them. He didn’t have to worry about anybody listening in on what they were saying to each other or spreading gossip through the village. He could just relax and enjoy his time with Elliott. _I have to tell him._ Once the thought settled in, he couldn’t shake it. He couldn’t keep his feelings inside any longer.

After their plates were removed and the waitress left to put in an order of the pink cake, Sebastian summoned every vestige of his courage. _Please don’t let me fuck this up. Please. Please, let me not be tongue-tied for once in my life._ He took in a breath and looked up.

“Hey, Elliott?” he asked, hating the pleading sound in his voice. He tried to clear his throat.

“Yes?” Elliott asked, those eyes already staring through Sebastian and directly into his soul. Sebastian glanced down at the table, hoping that not having Elliott staring at him would allow him to speak clearly.

“There’s something I’ve wanted to talk to you about,” Sebastian said, speaking more slowly than usual, forcing himself to think about the words before they went out of his mouth. “And if it’s not something you want or would be okay with, don’t – don’t feel like you have to go along with it on my account.”

Elliott nodded, hoping his face wasn’t giving away the whirring of his mind. “I’m listening,” he said, reaching across the table to place his hand on Sebastian’s. “Go ahead, darling.”

Sebastian swallowed, cursing himself for saying anything. It was going to come out now, one way or the other. He took in another, slightly shaky breath.

“I like you a lot,” he said, looking up at Elliott. “It’s really, really hard for me to make friends. And I know I was pushing you away a lot at first, but you didn’t leave. You were there and you always treated me so nice, no matter what a dick I was being. You’re really important to me.” Elliott smiled and was about to say something, but Sebastian quickly plowed ahead. He knew if he didn’t speak now, his courage would vanish. “And I… I’ve thought a lot. About how much time we’ve spent together and how much it’s meant to me. Not even when we’re doing stuff, like playing Solarian or going here to the city, but just… any time with you. It’s like you make my brain stop yelling so much. You make me feel calm. You…” he swallowed. “You make me feel… good. And I want – I –”

He was starting to stutter. He couldn’t get the words out. He bit down on his tongue, trying to keep it still. He glanced back at the table but could still feel Elliott’s eyes on him.

“It’s all right,” Elliott said softly, reassuringly. “Take your time.”

Sebastian breathed in and out a few long breaths. “I think I may want to be more than just friends,” he said. He couldn’t bring himself to look up. He didn’t want to see the look of surprise or disappointment or disgust that he knew had to be on Elliott’s face. “If you don’t want to, if you don’t want that, you just have to tell me and I won’t ever mention it again. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or hate me or –”

“Sebastian.” The word cut through everything and made his tongue stop its stupid babbling. He raised his head and saw the gentle smile on Elliott’s face. When their eyes met, Elliott squeezed his hand softly. “That would make me very, very, very happy.”

Sebastian felt as though his heart stopped. He couldn’t have heard that right. But Elliott was looking at him, rubbing his thumb against Sebastian’s knuckles, leaning forward.

“Yeah?” he asked, barely daring to hope. It was stupid, saying something like that, but he couldn’t manage to get anything else out.

“Yes. Very much,” Elliott said. He leaned back as the waitress placed the cake on the table between them, with two forks. She departed, tactfully not saying anything about the clear sparks flying between the two men. “So much so,” Elliott continued, “that I think I’d be willing to forgo any sightseeing this afternoon, if you’d prefer to just return to our room and… perhaps get to know each other better.”

Sebastian felt his heart do somersaults in his chest. He couldn’t manage a verbal response, instead nodding his head. _It’s going to happen. It’s actually going to happen._

“Wonderful,” Elliott said, smiling brightly. He picked up the fork nearest him and broke off a bite of cake. Spearing it with the tines, he moved his hand up, holding it out for Sebastian. Sebastian leaned forward, opening his mouth and allowing Elliott to carefully navigate the fork inside. Sebastian closed his mouth and Elliott withdrew the fork.

_Fuck. Haley was totally right about this stupid cake._

~~~

The second they entered the hotel again, both Sebastian and Elliott grew quiet as the weight of what they were about to do settled upon them. Neither would have admitted it to the other, but both were anxious about what was going to happen when they returned to the room. No matter what happened, their relationship was never going to be the same after.

They rode up in the elevator, standing close to each other but not talking. The ninth floor arrived and they stepped out, keeping their pace steady as they walked down the hallway to their room. Elliott fished his keycard out of his pocket and swore under his breath as it slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. _Butterfingers._ Before he could bend down, Sebastian was kneeling to pick it up. Their eyes met as Sebastian looked up and for a moment the rest of the world fell away.

Sebastian stood and handed the card to Elliott, who inserted it in the card reader. A small beep and shift of the light from red to green, and the door was open. Elliott held the door for Sebastian and moved the DO NOT DISTURB placard from inside the door to hang on the outside.

The silence continued as they moved in, Sebastian kicking off his boots and Elliott removing his overcoat and draping it over a chair as though they had just come back in and had no plans. Sebastian’s heart thudded in his chest as he moved over, sitting gingerly on the bed – now made, housekeeping must have come in while they were at lunch – and watching Elliott as he moved over to the windows and carefully pulled the curtains toward each other. The light from outside was cut off and Elliott reached over to turn on one of the bedside lamps.

Sebastian’s heart pounded as Elliott came over, sitting next to him on the bed and placing a hand on Sebastian’s face.

“Before we go any further, there’s something I need to let you know about,” Elliott said, looking into Sebastian’s eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to ignore the sudden ache in his abdomen. “I have a skin disease,” he said. “It’s called eczema. It’s not contagious, you can’t catch it, but it is… ugly. Especially on my chest and around my ribs. I have had intimate partners not want to proceed any further when they see it. Or ask me to leave a t-shirt on. So if it’s something that you aren’t comfortable seeing or feeling, don’t suffer. It won’t be the first time I’ve heard it.”

Sebastian’s heart constricted. Elliott’s voice was calm and his expression neutral, but he couldn’t hide the pain in his eyes. And then, something clicked.

“Is that why you wear that coat all the time? Why you don’t ever wear anything short-sleeved or shorts?” he asked.

“Yes,” Elliott said. He was quiet for a moment. “My legs aren’t quite so bad, but every time I’ve tried to wear shorts, I get comments. Usually someone asking me if I’ve been bitten by insects, or something along those lines.”

A feeling of mixed anger and agony spread through Sebastian’s chest. He couldn’t stand the thought of anyone being cruel to Elliott, even unintentionally. He placed his hands on each side of Elliott’s face and leaned his forehead against Elliott’s.

“I want to see all of you,” he said quietly. “You are… you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Nothing about you could ever be ugly to me.”

Elliott drew in a slight breath, feeling the anxiety leave his frame. It was right. The whole moment was right. Without waiting any longer, he leaned in and pressed his lips against Sebastian’s. The same spark that had been there the night before flared up and he let out a small moan into Sebastian’s mouth.

The second Elliott kissed him, fireworks went off in Sebastian’s blood. _Our first kiss._ The thought came and settled upon him, warming him as a thick quilt on a cold night would. He kissed Elliott back, cursing his inexperience and wishing he were better at this.

Like Elliott was. Yoba, he was a good kisser. He pressed his lips against Sebastian’s quietly, insistently, with a barely restrained passion. Sebastian felt Elliott leaning him back and let himself lie down on the bed, shifting his legs up onto the mattress as Elliott moved with him. Everything else in the world ceased to matter. Sebastian had expected that intimacy with Elliott would be incredible, but he could never have anticipated how his brain would shut off from thinking of anything except the man who was kissing him.

Elliott brought his hands down, placing them under the hem of Sebastian’s shirt and carefully rolling the shirt up. He broke away from kissing Sebastian just long enough for Sebastian to raise his arms and help get the shirt off himself. Sebastian had dreaded this moment, when Elliott saw how pale and skinny and pitiful he looked, but the expression in Elliott’s eyes wasn’t regret but wonder.

Elliott took in Sebastian’s torso beneath him, scanning it over as though he were trying to memorize the sight. Sebastian had a slight line of chest hair along his sternum but the rest of him was bare. His skin was so pale as to be almost translucent. His nipples were stiff, two slight nubs of brown-pink against his ivory skin. Elliott placed his fingers on Sebastian’s side, gently drawing over the ink.

“Why a trident?” he asked Sebastian.

Sebastian glanced down at the tattoo. “It’s the symbol of the planet Neptune,” he said. “I always liked Neptune. It’s so cold and distant. It just felt…” he trailed off. “It means something to me.”

Elliott brought his mouth down and gently kissed the skin over the tattoo. Sebastian felt a shiver of desire run through him. “It’s beautiful work,” Elliott murmured, softly pressing a few more kisses across his chest. “It must have hurt, though.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t fun,” Sebastian said. He had gotten the tattoo the same day he’d gotten his piercings. He didn’t want to admit to Elliott how painful getting the area over his ribs tattooed had been, how he lay shirtless on the table as the artist worked, Sam holding one of his hands, Abby the other, tears streaming wordlessly down his cheeks. Abby had run her fingers through his hair and quietly talked to him, telling him how glad he’d be when it was done, how great it was going to look, how worth it the pain was.

Now, watching and feeling as Elliott traced his fingers and his lips across his chest, Sebastian realized Abby was right. It was all worth it. Everything he had ever done or experienced in his life was worth it for the sensations running through him at this moment. Sebastian let out a small whine, tilting his head back, as Elliott delicately ran his fingertips across his chest and stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Please,” he whispered.

“Do you enjoy this?” Elliott asked, voice low and fingers still moving slowly, the tips just barely grazing Sebastian’s skin.

“Please. It feels – it’s so good,” Sebastian moaned.

Elliott followed the caress of his fingertips over Sebastian’s navel with a soft kiss just above his bellybutton. Sebastian arched his back and gasped at the sensation. Nobody had ever touched him like this before and it was making his brain short-circuit. He was already straining at his pants. The cool air in the hotel room was making his skin feel blissful, and Elliott was paying such close attention to him, giving him sensations unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

Elliott continued to gently stoke the fire inside of Sebastian, relishing the quiet whimpers and sudden inhalations the younger man was making. Elliott didn’t know if Sebastian was a virgin or not, but if he wasn’t, whoever he was with before had not known how to treat him right. Elliott allowed his fingers to move over each and every part of Sebastian: his collarbones, his navel, his sides, his arms, his nipples, his face. Every time, he would follow the sensation of his fingers on Sebastian with a soft kiss in the area he had just touched. Sebastian wasn’t writhing, not exactly, but the way his body moved, one hip jutting up, his shoulders arching, his head rolling from side to side, let Elliott know he was doing the right thing.

Elliott’s fingers paused at the waistband of Sebastian’s jeans. “May I?” he asked quietly. Sebastian opened his eyes and Elliott could see something in them that made him pause. He moved up closer to Sebastian, placing his hand on Sebastian’s face. “What’s wrong, do you want to stop?” he asked, concern evident in his eyes and face.

“No. No, I – I want to keep going,” Sebastian said. “It’s just… I don’t – this is the first time I’ve been with a man. And I – I don’t think I’m that… big. From what I – I tried watching videos, and it looked like they were…”

“Oh, darling,” Elliott said, reaching up to kiss his forehead. “Every part of you is beautiful. It doesn’t matter what size you are. That’s just genetics.” He pulled back and looked at Sebastian with a smile. “Besides that, they find very, very well-endowed men for those videos. And they shoot from angles that, erm… emphasize certain features.”

Sebastian let out a nervous laugh. “I just – I don’t want you to be disappointed,” he said.

“Nothing about you could ever disappoint me,” Elliott said, moving closer to Sebastian’s face. “You are so beautiful. I will treasure every part of you because it is part of you. Because you make my heart ache when I see that smile that comes to your face when something pleases you. Because you sing so beautifully. Because you fit in my arms perfectly.” He pressed his lips against Sebastian’s again. He had been gentle at first, careful of the lip ring, but Sebastian didn’t seem to need any extra care around it, so Elliott allowed himself to kiss a little more deeply this time. When he broke the kiss, he opened his eyes to look into Sebastian’s once more. “I adore you, Sebastian Larsson. I adore every single bit of you.”

The more Elliott spoke to him, the warmer Sebastian’s chest felt until he practically felt he was glowing with heat. When Elliott kissed him, Sebastian felt that same burst, even stronger than before, in his brain and his blood. Elliott wanted him. _Him._ Sebastian couldn’t understand why, but every molecule in his body was screaming with need. He slowly reached down and unfastened the button on his jeans, drawing down the zipper. Elliott helped him get his jeans off and Sebastian pulled his socks off along with the pants.

Only his boxers were left. Equal amounts of fear and anticipation coursed through Sebastian as Elliott carefully placed his fingers on the bulge in his boxers and rubbed, delicately but enough to elicit a deep groan from Sebastian’s throat. Elliott moved his mouth to Sebastian’s ear.

“I can tell just from feeling that you have nothing to worry about,” he murmured. Sebastian groaned again and felt another rush of adrenaline. And then Elliott was placing his fingers inside the band and slowly pulling down. Before Sebastian realized it, the boxers were off and he was completely nude before Elliott. His heart pounded in his chest, but Elliott was looking at his form with something akin to adoration.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured again and Sebastian felt a shiver pass through him. Elliott kissed him below his ear. “I could just…” Elliott extended his tongue and placed the tip of it on Sebastian’s neck, drawing it across to the center of his throat and then down his neck, over his sternum, diverting just enough to pass over one of his nipples and elicit a shudder of desire from Sebastian, then down his side, over his navel and to…

Oh, _Yoba._

Sebastian cried out as Elliott took him into his mouth. Elliott lowered his head, taking in more and more yet of Sebastian’s length, and Sebastian let out a whine of need. He might have been embarrassed by the sound if he hadn’t felt _so fucking good._ Elliott’s mouth was warm, and wet, and it encompassed him, and the _pressure,_ sweet Yoba, the pressure was unlike anything Sebastian had ever felt before in his life. His fears, his worries, everything fell from him as Elliott carefully, slowly bobbed his head up and down.

Elliott kept his eyes open, looking up at Sebastian and taking in the entirety of his lover’s body. It was so beautiful. _He_ was so beautiful. The way Sebastian’s head thrashed back and forth, the expressions on his face, the beautiful cries and pleas coming from him, everything was filling and sustaining Elliott. He could do this forever. If it were bringing Sebastian this much ecstasy, he would gladly worship him like this until the universe itself burned out.

Sebastian floated along in a haze, barely aware of how his hands found the back of Elliott’s head and his fingers tangled in Elliott’s thick hair. He let out a particularly deep groan as Elliott pushed deeper onto him, taking as much of Sebastian as he could. Sebastian could barely think of anything else. His entire world was Elliott. Elliott and how good he was making Sebastian feel. And then on an upstroke, one of Sebastian’s hands slid down slightly and brushed against the collar of Elliott’s shirt.

His shirt. Elliott was still clothed. He hadn’t taken a single item of clothing off, and he had been making Sebastian feel this good. The thought lodged itself in Sebastian’s head. _I’m being selfish. I’m just taking. He’s – he deserves to feel good, too._ He affixed his hands on the sides of Elliott’s head and slowly drew back, eventually pulling himself from Elliott’s mouth.

“What is it, darling?” Elliott asked him, looking up with worry in his voice and eyes.

“I want – I want to do this to you, too,” Sebastian said. “I want you to… I want to feel you. All of you.” A look of concern passed over Elliott’s face and Sebastian once again felt an urge to destroy anyone who had ever been cruel to Elliott. He had no idea how anyone could dare reject him or ask him to cover himself up. He adjusted himself, moving down the bed until he was kissing Elliott, kissing him deeply, with as much passion as he could. He heard Elliott murmur and moan against his mouth as they lay together. Sebastian reached down and began to pull Elliott’s shirt from where it was tucked into his pants.

Elliott stiffened slightly, which made Sebastian pause. He drew back from Sebastian’s mouth and gently kissed his nose. “Let – let me, please,” he said. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to reject your touch, it’s just… this makes me feel very vulnerable.”

Sebastian nodded and settled back. “Do you… want me to close my eyes or something?” he asked.

“Only if you want to,” Elliott said. Sebastian tucked his legs under himself and settled back on his haunches, making a point to keep his eyes open and look at Elliott.

Elliott swallowed. _Here goes nothing._ He began unbuttoning his shirt, taking it slow not to tease Sebastian but to prolong what he knew would be the inevitable flinch Sebastian made upon seeing him. He pulled the shirt from his torso, leaving his white undershirt on. His trousers were next, unsnapped and rolled down, followed by his socks. He could tell Sebastian was glancing at the small patches of red on his thighs and the backs of his calves. He moved to his boxers next, pulling them off and letting himself free.

“Oh, Yoba,” Sebastian breathed upon seeing Elliott’s length for the first time. Elliott chuckled a bit but dropped his boxers off the side of the bed. All that was left was the undershirt.

“Again, if it’s too much…” he began, but Sebastian shook his head.

“Please,” he said, looking up at Elliott’s face. “Please, I want to see all of you.”

Elliott braced himself and put his hands on the bottom of the undershirt. He pulled it up, slowly, keeping his eyes closed as he pulled it up over his head and down the length of his hair. He turned from Sebastian, tossing it to the side. And now the test. He turned back in Sebastian’s direction and opened his eyes.

Sebastian took in the entirety of Elliott before him. Elliott hadn’t been lying, the patches were spread over the sides of his ribs, a good portion of his chest, onto his back. They were red and looked scratchy, but Elliott was here. He was completely here, in front of Sebastian, and Sebastian could practically touch him. He looked up, mouth dry, at Elliott’s face and again felt pain shoot through him at the fear he could see in Elliott’s eyes.

“Does it hurt? I mean – would it hurt if I touched you?” he asked.

“Not if you’re gentle,” Elliott said. “Just try – try not to press too hard. Aside from that, it should be fine.”

Sebastian moved forward and placed his hands – they were trembling, damn it – on Elliott’s chest. Elliott took in a slight breath at the sensation and Sebastian quickly withdrew.

“No – no, please,” Elliott all but whispered. “Please… please touch me.”

Sebastian returned his hands to Elliott’s chest and let them run all over Elliott. Elliott whimpered at his attention. He felt so different than Abby had. Her chest and stomach had been soft, her skin delicate, her body smaller than his. Elliott was taller, his skin rougher, his stomach flat. But he was trembling as Sebastian began touching him.

_He deserves this._

Sebastian moved in and softly kissed Elliott’s chest. Elliott let out a small, “Oh,” that sounded halfway between a moan and a cry. He began to kiss all over Elliott, everywhere he could. The rough patches felt slightly strange against his fingers and his lips, not as soft or smooth as the rest of the skin, but they were part of Elliott. They were him. Once Sebastian realized where they were, they felt as normal as the rest of Elliott.

He could feel Elliott slowly lean back on his elbows and then drop back to the mattress completely. Elliott was shaking as Sebastian continued to attend to him. He couldn’t get enough of Elliott, of feeling him, of touching him, of kissing him, of tasting him. Sebastian allowed himself to fall completely into exploring Elliott, memorizing the feel of him as though he were blind and this were the only way he could know Elliott.

After a few minutes, Sebastian heard slight, shuddering intakes of breath and looked up. Elliott’s face was crumpled and he looked about to cry. He immediately moved up, placing his hands on Elliott’s face. “What is it? What did I do? I’m sorry. Elliott, I’m sorry,” he said quickly.

“No. No, darling, you –” Elliott opened his eyes and Sebastian could see they were wet. Elliott bit his lip. “I just… nobody has touched me this way, this much, in such a very long time,” he finally got out. “I haven’t felt like anyone has desired me this much in so very long.”

Sebastian could feel his heart break in half and he pressed his lips against Elliott’s again, harder this time. He could feel a slight pressure at his lips and he parted them, allowing Elliott’s tongue to slide between his lips and slowly entangle with his own. The sensation was strange at first, but the more Sebastian allowed it to happen, the hotter it felt. He was aching to experience Elliott completely. He had to feel him. Had to know him.

Elliott seemed to have the same idea. He reluctantly broke away from Sebastian and slid closer to the side of the bed, fumbling down into his suitcase. He pulled out a small bottle and set it on the bedstand.

“You came prepared,” Sebastian quipped.

“Sea Scout’s motto,” Elliott said with a wry smile. He glanced up at Sebastian. “Have you been with another man before?” he asked. Sebastian shook his head. Elliott considered. “Have you been with a woman before?”

“Once,” Sebastian admitted. “It was kind of weird. Not bad, just… weird.”

Elliott thought. “Probably best for you to be the one on top, then,” he said. He picked up the bottle and carefully squeezed a small amount of the fluid inside into his hand. He rubbed his hands together, gently warming it up, then moved to Sebastian’s length, stroking him gently and making him slick. Sebastian let out low, quiet moans as Elliott did so.

“That feels so good,” he said softly.

“It’ll feel even better in a minute,” Elliott said, smiling up at him. He looked at Sebastian as he stroked. “There are a few positions we could do,” he said. “If you just want to lie back, I could be on top of you. Or I could be on my back and have you with my knees on your shoulders. Or we could have you behind me, with me on my hands and knees. What would you like?”

Sebastian didn’t have to think. “On your back,” he said. “I want to see your face.”

Elliott’s eyes softened and he leaned forward, kissing Sebastian, just once but holding it for a long while. “All right,” he said softly as he broke away. “Give me just a moment.”

Elliott rolled onto his back and squeezed a little more lubricant into his hand. He stroked it over a pair of his fingers and inserted them into himself, letting out a slight breath as he did. Sebastian watched, feeling something akin to awe as he watched Elliott slowly prepare himself, small breaths escaping him as his fingers worked inside of himself. The quiet noises Elliott made only heightened Sebastian’s desire.

_I’m going to be in him. I’m actually going to be inside of him. Yoba, please don’t let me fuck this up._

Elliott’s face softened as his fingers seemed to be moving in and out more easily. Sebastian watched, fascinated. He had never seen this part in any of the videos he’d watched. And he had no idea why. Watching Elliott prepare himself carefully, tenderly, readying himself for Sebastian was one of the most erotic things Sebastian had ever seen. He could practically hear his pulse. He moved slightly closer to Elliott on the bed, watching him, waiting. Wanting.

Eventually, Elliott removed his fingers from himself and he lifted his head. “All right,” he said. “I’ll need you to go slow at first. It’s been more than a year since anyone has been in me.” He carefully lifted his legs and Sebastian moved between them, helping Elliott to get the backs of his knees up on Sebastian’s shoulders. Sebastian’s head spun as he moved closer and closer to Elliott.

_This is happening._

Elliott’s hand was there, taking hold of him and helping guide him. Sebastian moved his hips closer as Elliott carefully moved him to the right spot.

“There,” he said, looking up at Sebastian. “Now lean in, push your hips forward.” Sebastian placed his hand on the mattress next to Elliott’s side and did as he was instructed. At first, nothing seemed to happen and he was worried he wasn’t doing it right. But then, without warning, there was some give and he felt himself slide forward and –

_Oh, **fuck.**_

He was inside Elliott. He pressed forward, not stopping until his hips were against Elliott’s and he took in a deep, shuddering breath. He had never felt anything like this before. Not even being inside of Abby. Elliott was so warm and slick and _tight,_ Yoba, he was so tight around Sebastian. Sebastian looked up and froze to see the slight grimace on Elliott’s face. Elliott seemed to recognize the look Sebastian made and placed his hand shakily on Sebastian’s cheek.

“Just – just give me a moment, please,” he said. “I just need… I need to get accustomed to the feeling.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Sebastian said. He could barely manage anything else. Yoba, how was he supposed to last any time at all? He felt like he was melting inside of Elliott, like he was going to be absorbed completely into him. He leaned his face to the side and kissed the inside of Elliott’s wrist. Elliott took in a slight hiss of desire at the feeling and locked eyes with Sebastian.

“This is normal,” he reassured Sebastian. “Even when in a relationship, when having sex regularly, it takes a moment to adjust. You didn’t do anything wrong. This is just how it is.” Sebastian’s stomach unclenched and he nodded.

“I want you to feel good,” he said.

Elliott’s eyes softened. “I will,” he said. He took in and let out a few long breaths, seeming to time them as he did. After the third such breath, he nodded. “All right. You can move – slowly, don’t rush it. Just relax into this feeling. This is meant to feel good. Take it as slow as you wish.”

Sebastian moved his hips back slightly, then forward. Then back. Then forward. Slow, incremental movements. Elliott let out small whimpering noises of pleasure as he moved. The sound was enough to make Sebastian’s heart beat out of his chest. He wanted to make sure Elliott felt good, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t end this too quickly. The disaster with Abby still weighed heavily on him and he did not want a repeat of that. He forced himself to move slowly, not to fall into that trap.

And oh, Yoba, Elliott felt so good around him. The warmth, the slickness, the tightness, he felt as though he were being gripped by Elliott as he rocked back and forth, into and out of him.

Elliott let his head fall back against the mattress, lolling it from side to side as Sebastian moved within him. A beautiful heat started to spread out through his abdomen and he was as hard as he could ever remember being. Sebastian was inside of him. At last, at long last, they were joining together, and Sebastian was being so gentle, so sweet. Elliott’s eyes fluttered open and he fixed on the concerned look on Sebastian’s face. Sebastian was so focused and furrowing his brows together so tightly that it didn’t look as though he were enjoying himself in the slightest.

“Bastian,” Elliott said. Sebastian didn’t stop or look up. Elliott reached up and placed a hand on Sebastian’s chest. Sebastian paused and glanced at him. “Bastian, what’s wrong?” Elliott asked. “You look… I don’t even know. You look like something’s terribly wrong.”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong,” Sebastian said. It was the truth. Sort of. He could tell Elliott wasn’t buying it for a moment and sighed. “I want… I want to make you feel good. I don’t want to come too fast. Last time, I…” he trailed off. The shame burned across the back of his brain again, but Elliott was gently stroking his chest.

“Sebastian,” he said, softly. “You are making me feel wonderful. I almost can’t stand how good you feel inside of me.” Sebastian felt the tenseness in his face lessen. “And if you do reach your climax quickly, that’s not uncommon. It’s not anything to be ashamed of. Especially if this is only your second time. I want you to feel good as well, and you’re not going to be feeling good if you’re clenching every muscle in your face like that.”

Sebastian let out a small laugh and felt some of his worry dissipate. Elliott was smiling at him. “Keep moving as you have,” he said. “It feels incredible. It feels like you’re bringing part of my soul back to life. And if you do feel like you might be reaching that point, let yourself go. I don’t want you to be tense and worried. This is about us. Our pleasure. Joining together.” He moved his hand up to place on Sebastian’s face. “I want you to enjoy this. Let yourself go.”

So Sebastian did. He started to move his hips again, thrusting deeper into Elliott than he had before and being rewarded with Elliott’s eyes rolling back and his head dropping to the pillow as he moaned. He pulled his hips back and pushed in again, each time savoring the moan or whimper or plea that came from Elliott’s lips. Before he knew it, he was moving in a steady motion, gripping onto Elliott’s ankles for leverage and feeling the heat rising within himself.

Elliott’s fingers gripped the sheets as Sebastian’s thrusts increased, his moaning turning into cries of pleasure as Sebastian’s thrusts rubbed his innermost parts, bringing Elliott’s lust to a fever pitch. He was vaguely aware of words falling from his mouth, but he had no real cognizance of what he was saying. All he knew was that he wanted Sebastian. He wanted this feeling. And he wanted Sebastian to finish inside of him.

Sebastian’s desire increased as Elliott began pleading for him, begging for him, words that sounded somehow even dirtier in Elliott’s accent falling from him. The clipped, proper cadence fell away and Elliott pleaded for him, begged him to debase him, to fill him up.

“I should… have known… you’d be good at… dirty talk,” he managed to get out, trying to keep himself back from the precipice while he kept driving into Elliott and relishing the cries Elliott was making.

“Please – please – please,” Elliott begged. The entire rest of the world was shut out. Nothing mattered except himself and Sebastian and this bed and the beautiful, devastating feeling that was coursing through him, that Sebastian was making him feel. Elliott hadn’t felt this way in so long. He’d been tipsy enough with Harvey that the experience was mostly hazy, and the last few times with James were colored by the growing resentment he was feeling. But now, with Sebastian, Elliott felt the rust and ache falling away from his heart. He felt like his soul was being replenished. He wanted Sebastian in him. He wanted to bring Sebastian to his peak. He wanted Sebastian to come inside of him, so that a part of Sebastian would always be within him.

“Please – please – I want you – I want you to come – please – fill me – fill me up – please,” he whimpered, lifting his head to look at Sebastian through eyes glassy with lust.

The words were the last breach in Sebastian’s resistance. He felt the familiar uncoiling sensation in his stomach, but there was something more to it now. He realized belatedly how much stronger this feeling was now than it normally was. He continued thrusting, his hips now almost out of his control and his eyes wild as he felt the static and heat and hormones blast through every part of him.

Sebastian plunged forward and threw his head back, screaming so loud he drowned out everything else in the world as the most intense orgasm he had ever experienced crashed over and through him, shooting out of him and into Elliott underneath him. The aftershocks caused his body to jolt a few times as he drew in a few short, shuddering breaths. His arms and legs suddenly felt weak, and then Elliott was leaning up, putting his arms around Sebastian and drawing him down. Sebastian collapsed onto Elliott, still inside of him somehow, and let his mind drift as Elliott stroked his back and whispered to him, gently.

“That was amazing. That was so wonderful. Thank you. Thank you so much. You made me feel so good.” The words soothed him as much as Elliott’s touch did. Sebastian lifted his head and met Elliott’s gaze. Elliott leaned up and kissed him, softer than before but no less passionate, and Sebastian found himself kissing back.

After a few moments of catching his breath, Sebastian managed to slide out of and off of Elliott, coming to a rest next to him and trying to make the world stop spinning.

“That was… incredible,” he managed to get out. Elliott chuckled and kissed his forehead.

“It felt wonderful for me, too,” Elliott said. He gently stroked Sebastian’s cheek. “It was well worth waiting for.”

Sebastian suddenly realized that Elliott was still hard. He hadn’t reached his climax. _Fuck. I am the worst lover on the planet._ He moved up, arms still a little shaky, but determined. Elliott watched him, momentarily confused, and then gratified as Sebastian moved back between his legs and reached out to take his length, stroking it slightly.

“Can I… can I suck you?” he asked.

“That would be wonderful,” Elliott said, gently brushing some of Sebastian’s hair back from his forehead. “Just take it slowly. Keep your jaw open a little wider than you think you might need. And don’t try to take it all in at once. I would much rather you enjoy this, and if you don’t enjoy it, don’t feel like you have to do it.”

Sebastian tried to loosen his jaw by rolling it back and forth. Elliott’s shaft was before him, stiff and proud. Elliott was bigger than him – not by much, but at least an inch or so. Just stroking Elliott and feeling his stiffness against Sebastian felt good. But putting it in his mouth was something new entirely. He nervously licked his lips and moved down, extending his tongue slightly to taste the head.

As his tongue touched the head, Elliott let out a content sigh. Sebastian was surprised to find that it just tasted like… skin. Like any other part of Elliott’s skin. Except for the slight bit of fluid that was coming from the slit, which was somewhere between salty and sweet. He moved down, taking the head into his mouth and slowly, trying as hard as he could to avoid scratching Elliott with his teeth, taking more and more of the shaft into him.

“Oh, darling,” Elliott moaned, stroking Sebastian’s hair. “That feels wonderful, you’re doing so well.” The compliment made Sebastian happier than he thought it would, and he began to bob his head back and forth as Elliott had done. Elliott’s whimpering and the tensing of his fingers in Sebastian’s hair encouraged him, and when he began rolling his tongue along the underside, Elliott’s deep groans let him know he was on the right track.

“You’re wonderful. You’re so wonderful,” Elliott moaned as Sebastian continued to pleasure him. “You make me feel alive. Like I’m coming back to life after being shut away for so much time. I’ve wanted to know your touch for so long, Bastian. And you feel better than I ever dared imagine. Please, this feels so good. Please don’t stop. I need you. I need this. Please, Bastian. Please.”

Sebastian found himself drawing up and down faster than he had before. The strangeness of the sensation fell away and the knowledge that it was Elliott who he was pleasuring, who was saying these things to him, made him want to bring Elliott over the edge. He looked up and saw Elliott’s eyes were closed and a look of abject bliss was on his face. He moved his hands to Elliott’s and Elliott quickly grasped onto the hands. From Elliott’s breathing and the pace of his speech, Sebastian could tell he was getting close.

“Darling. Darling, please. Please don’t stop,” Elliott begged. “Bastian, please. I’m – I’m so very close. Please, darling. Please, I need this. I need it so.” Elliott let out a long whine as he felt a familiar heat licking at his insides. He clutched at Sebastian’s hands tighter and felt Sebastian begin to actively suck upon him, which made Elliott cry out. He could feel his release building and building, the dam about to burst.

“Bastian, I’m – I’m going to – if you don’t want – Bastian, I’m – I’m –”

And then Sebastian drew himself down as much as he could - not too far, not too much, he didn’t want to ruin the moment by gagging - and Elliott fell through his release, crying out as his body spasmed in pleasure. He tried to control the movement of his hips, not thrusting up into Sebastian’s mouth, but his release roared through him, filling Sebastian’s mouth and into his throat.

Sebastian wasn’t expecting the taste of Elliott’s release to be as salty as it was. It wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, but it didn’t taste like anything else he had ever had. He swallowed a few times, trying to clear his mouth and feeling a warmth through him as he realized he was taking Elliott into him, similar to how Elliott had taken him in. When he finally released Elliott from his mouth and looked back up, his heart spasmed at the look of peace and happiness on Elliott’s face. Sebastian had never seen Elliott look so relaxed, or so content. He gently released his grip on Elliott’s hands and slowly slid up his body.

Elliott opened his eyes and looked at Sebastian with wonder as he moved up to lie next to him. Sebastian wrapped his arms around Elliott’s chest and nuzzled his face against Elliott’s. Elliott kissed him, softly, and exhaled a long breath.

“That was wonderful,” he managed to get out. “Thank you.” He stroked Sebastian’s face. “Thank you so much.”

“I should be thanking you,” Sebastian said. “I never… I didn’t know my body could feel that good. It was amazing.”

Elliott rolled over onto his side so he and Sebastian were facing each other. For a few moments, they simply looked at each other, words seeming inadequate to describe the experience they had just shared.

After a moment, Sebastian asked, “So when did you start calling me Bastian?”

Elliott laughed. “Well, if we were going to be intimate like this, I needed some term of endearment to call you,” he said, running his hand through Sebastian’s hair. “And no offense to your mother, she is absolutely lovely, but Sebby is a terrible nickname.”

“It really is,” Sebastian said, shaking his head.

“And Seb… that seemed too casual,” Elliott said. “Bastian seemed to fit you better. But if you don’t like it, I can come up with something else.”

Sebastian was quiet for a moment. At last, he asked, “How did you come up with those nicknames for Becca and Leah? Sunflower and starling?”

“Ah,” Elliott said. “Well, Becca is just like a sunflower. She’s bright and loud and cheery and absolutely announces her presence. She’s not delicate like most flowers, but she brings just as much joy. And Leah, she’s small, but her voice carries, and she flits around and is always watching and commenting on what’s happening. When I took her to the train station when she left Kel, I told her, ‘Fly away, starling. Find your wings and fly.’”

Sebastian nuzzled against Elliott. “Can you come up with a name like that for me?” he asked, feeling foolish for asking.

“Of course,” Elliott said, kissing him once more. “I’d love nothing more.” He smiled. “Tell me, what’s your middle name?”

“David,” Sebastian said.

“Sebastian David Larsson,” Elliott said slowly, feeling each syllable in his mouth. “It’s a good name. It’s a strong name. It has character to it.”

“Like Elliott Charles Rourke?” Sebastian asked.

Elliott paused, quirking his head. “How do you know my middle name?” he asked.

“I JojaSearched you,” Sebastian said, smiling wryly. “Standard practice for anyone I’m going away on a long trip with. Had to make sure there wasn’t a warrant out for your arrest.”

Elliott chuckled. “Nothing so romantic as that,” he said. “But yes… yes, I need to think of something appropriate to call you. Especially if… if we’re going to do this again?”

Sebastian felt his heart pound in his chest. He nodded. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, I…” he couldn’t imagine not doing this again. He desperately wanted Elliott, all of him, and he wanted to do this again and again and again.

But they were going home tomorrow. They wouldn’t have the privacy or anonymity they did here. They had Elliott’s cabin, thankfully, at least some place they could go and enjoy each other, but Sebastian knew he was going to have to be careful, or else there would be questions, whispers, gossip. The usual telephone game in Pelican Town.

“Is something the matter?” Elliott asked.

Sebastian let out a long breath and tucked his head into Elliott’s neck. That was a problem for tomorrow. Today, he was going to enjoy this. “No,” he said quietly. “Nothing’s wrong. Just… can you hold me, please? I want to feel you.”

Elliott wrapped his arms around Sebastian and brought him in close, feeling Sebastian against him completely. Sebastian hadn’t cringed or winced or avoided his skin. Not even now, after the heat of the moment had passed. He was here. He was skin to skin against Elliott, nuzzling and cuddling against him as though Elliott’s skin wasn’t a nightmare to behold.

“You feel so very good against me,” Elliott breathed out, closing his eyes.

_And I could fall in love with you. So very easily._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Public service announcement: I don’t particularly care for including STIs in my fanfics, so condoms in this world are only used for prevention of pregnancy. Obviously, in real life, always use protection until and unless you and your partner get tested together and you’re both comfortable going without.
> 
> YOU GUYS, I AM SO GLAD TO HAVE WRITTEN THIS CHAPTER. The slow burn was dragging out so long, and there was no way I could have extended it any further than this. But just because Sebastian and Elliott have slept together, that doesn’t mean the story is over. Not by a longshot; we’re only about a quarter of the way there. We’re about to move into the summer arc of the story, where things change, things heat up, and Elliott and Sebastian find themselves having to navigate their new relationship while also balancing their other relationships in town and their responsibilities. There will be some rough waters ahead, but they have each other to lean on now. Next time, they’ll be back in Pelican Town just in time for a major change to occur.
> 
> I regret to say, however, that I won’t be able to post that chapter next week. As many people are, I’m returning to work after the holidays and anticipate having a very busy week ahead of me, so I don’t want to have too much on my plate. The next chapter will be up on Friday, January 15. 
> 
> However, I do have some exciting news! After several people have asked me whether I’d consider doing so, I’ve started a [Tumblr blog](https://hibiscustea9.tumblr.com/) for my fanfics as well as for people to submit questions or comments if they’d like to do so outside of AO3. If you’d like, feel free to pop over and either ask me anything or take a look at what’s going on.
> 
> I also want to thank all of you for being so kind and receptive to my work. 2020 has been one hell of a year for all of us, and writing (500,000+ words across the five fics I’ve posted this year) has been the thing that got me through it. To know how many of you have not only read my work but liked it, commented on it, and been thoughtful enough to continue doing so from one chapter to the next has meant the world to me. Thank you for reading my crap!
> 
> I hope you all have a very happy New Year and that 2021 brings a lot better world for all of us. See you in two weeks, guys!


	10. A Place Called Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! The song I listened to while writing this chapter was “Secreto en la Montaña ( _Brokeback Mountain _Suite)” by Gustavo Santaolalla, found[here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pEdhYYTp7lc).__

“Traveling is like flirting with life. It’s like saying, ‘I would stay and love you, but I have to go; this is my station.’”  
-Lisa St. Aubin de Terán

Elliott’s eyes fluttered open on Thursday morning, his vision clearing slowly to see Sebastian just inches from his face. Sebastian smiled and reached up to brush his fingers against Elliott’s cheek.

“Hey,” Sebastian said quietly.

“Good morning,” Elliott replied. He stretched his back out, inching closer to Sebastian as he did so. He pressed a soft kiss against Sebastian’s lips, which was returned. “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“Like a rock,” Sebastian said. He slid his arms around Elliott’s torso, careful to avoid the rough patches of skin, and pressed their chests together. He hadn’t slept nude in – well, he couldn’t even remember how long. But aside from a brief trip down to the hotel restaurant around seven for dinner, he and Elliott had spent the entire afternoon and evening entangled in each other without a stitch of clothing on. Sebastian had found himself craving Elliott, craving his touch, his kiss, the feeling of his skin. They hadn’t had sex the entire time, but even when they weren’t, they found it nearly impossible to keep from lying together, Elliott’s hand stroking Sebastian’s back or Sebastian gently tangling his fingers in Elliott’s hair.

Lying in bed before sleep, legs interwoven with Elliott’s, arms around each other, softly kissing one another, Sebastian had felt as though he never wanted to be anywhere else for the rest of his life. Eventually, their kisses stopped and they quietly spoke to each other, confessing about how long each had desired this, whispering promises and questions and hopes. Sebastian had fallen asleep to the sound of Elliott’s voice, and slept through the night about as soundly as he ever had.

He’d woken about twenty minutes before Elliott and spent the entire time just watching Elliott sleep. Elliott’s hair, it turned out, got awfully messy when he slept. No wonder he had to spend so much time getting it ready in the morning. In their turning and movement while they slept, they’d managed to disentangle from each other’s arms and Elliott had been on his side, one arm above himself, the other tucked against his chest. He wasn’t snoring so much as breathing heavily, a deep inhalation followed by an almost silent exhalation.

Sebastian could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he lay so very close to Elliott. For a couple of horrible seconds upon waking, he’d wondered if the night before had been a dream. He’d dreamed about being with Elliott before, never so vividly, mostly vague comforts of being wrapped in strong arms and feeling long hair tumble around himself, but when he realized Elliott was there, and naked, and that they had slept together and actually still liked each other afterward, Sebastian had felt so lightheaded he had to lean his head back against the pillow.

And now Elliott was awake and smiling at him, gently running his fingertips over Sebastian’s cheek, down the bridge of his nose, over his lips.

“Your freckles are even more fetching in this light,” he murmured. Sebastian chuckled, feeling a flush of pleasure creep up through him.

“I always hated them,” he said quietly. “Being a ginger kid with freckles was a guarantee of getting bullied.”

“Is that why you started dying your hair?” Elliott asked, moving his hand up to brush back a lock of raven hair. “Not that the black isn’t fetching as well, but I’m curious what your natural color looks like on you.”

“Yeah. I was fourteen the first time I did. Saved up my allowance and bought a box of dye at Pierre’s,” Sebastian said, chuckling. “Mom was super raw about it and chewed me out, then she went to Pierre’s and chewed _him_ out.”

“What got her to change her mind?” Elliott asked him.

“I don’t know,” Sebastian said, nuzzling closer to him. “All I know is a couple weeks later, she told me that if it was making me happy, she’d let me keep dying it, as long as I let her help so I didn’t make a huge mess of the bathroom.”

“Oh, dear,” Elliott said, chuckling as he encircled his arms around Sebastian. “Did it look like a war zone?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I got that blue-black shade that every goth picks,” Sebastian said. “And I thought I had to put the entire bottle on my hair. It looked like someone had tested chemical weapons in the shower.”

“That poor tile,” Elliott murmured, nuzzling his face into the crook of Sebastian’s neck and affixing a few soft kisses to his skin. “But it was worth it,” he said quietly, kissing the inside of Sebastian’s clavicle, causing a shiver to go through the younger man. “If it made you feel anywhere near as handsome as you actually are.”

Sebastian let out a small whimper as Elliott kissed slowly up his neck, tilting his head back to give Elliott easier access. He could hardly have imagined acting this way the day before yesterday. The day before Elliott kissed him and he surrendered completely.

Elliott took his time coaxing these feelings out of Sebastian. He remembered being that young, being desperate to reach his climax, thinking it was the only goal of lovemaking. It had taken a more experienced lover working Elliott over, patiently teaching him how his body could react, allowing the heat and desire and need and lust and desperation to build within him, for him to realize how much more there was to sex than just pure carnality.

And now he was teaching Sebastian the same lesson.

Sebastian let his head sink into the pillow as Elliott loomed over him, kissing at his clavicle, his neck, the underside of his chin where his slight scruff of beard was. He hardly recognized the noises he was making. Before yesterday, he wouldn’t have even thought he could make noises like that – quiet whimpers, soft whines, sharp, sudden intakes of breath. And then Elliott had shown him how beautiful his body could feel.

After their first time, they had lain in bed, quietly talking about nothing in particular. Sebastian had worried that after it would be awkward, that they wouldn’t know how to talk to each other, but it turned out that lying naked with Elliott, sweaty and breathing hard – Yoba, he needed to cut back on the cigarettes – felt as natural as lying clothed in Elliott’s arms, or talking with him about Solarian or Elliott’s book, or how stupid the Flower Dance was. Being with Elliott, in every way, felt as natural as anything Sebastian had ever experienced.

Their conversation slowly led to kissing, which led to rubbing bodies against one another, which led to their second time, with Elliott atop, riding him and controlling the pace, looking down at Sebastian with equal parts lust and determination. He had lasted longer that time, no doubt due to Elliott’s careful, deliberate rising and falling. Elliott had spoken to him the entire time, had told him of how glorious it felt with Sebastian inside of himself, how Sebastian was reaching into parts of him and stirring feelings in him that he hadn’t felt in so very long. The talk turned Sebastian on as much as the physical sensations did. And when Elliott could tell Sebastian was struggling to hold back, he affixed a wicked smirk on his face and then rapidly bucked his hips up and down until Sebastian threw his head back against the pillow and screamed as he emptied himself into Elliott again.

After a joint shower, and dinner, they had returned to their room and once again stripped, barely able to keep their hands off one another. This last time had been different, as they had lain side by side in the bed, each taking the other into his mouth and sharing in an endless loop of pleasure. Sebastian had been surprised at how much he enjoyed having Elliott in his mouth. The sensation and taste had been a little strange the first time he did it, but after that, he felt his mouth watering at the thought of tasting Elliott again. The third time it had been Elliott who reached his peak first, his desperate moans around Sebastian’s member the only warning before he erupted and Sebastian greedily swallowed, taking it all into himself. Elliott had taken a moment to catch his breath before eagerly returning to finish Sebastian off, swallowing Sebastian’s load as well.

As Sebastian had taken shuddering breaths following his third orgasm of the day, Elliott had smiled and, his tone gently teasing, said, “I suspect you might have an oral fixation, Mr. Larsson.”

 _I have an Elliott Rourke fixation._ The words hadn’t come at the time, but they resounded in Sebastian’s head as Elliott continued to kiss and caress and lick and stroke at his skin, everywhere he could reach. Sebastian felt as though his blood were on fire. The heat coursing through him was more than he could bear and he tossed his head from side to side, his hands grabbing into the tangles of Elliott’s hair.

Elliott smiled to himself at how easily he could tease Sebastian like this. Yesterday had been only the second – and then the third and the fourth – time Sebastian had ever had sex. It became clear early on that Sebastian had no idea how sensual the experience of sleeping together could be, for reasons that had nothing to do with genitalia. Elliott luxuriated in the noises coming from Sebastian, knowing that he was bringing them up.

_I want to make you feel good, my darling. You are so beautiful and so good to me. Please, let me make you feel good._

Sebastian wasn’t fighting Elliott or complaining that it was too much. When he had first started making the noises, Elliott had backed off, only for Sebastian to plea for him not to stop. So too had Elliott refrained from pressing his chest against Sebastian’s as he explored him, until Sebastian seemed to realize what he was doing, and sat up, bringing Elliott up with him. And then Sebastian said, “I want all of you. Every bit of you. Don’t keep yourself from me.”

Sebastian always said that he didn’t ever know what to say, but the words couldn’t have been more beautiful or meaningful. Sebastian accepted him, completely. Elliott had never known another lover to simply accept his skin the way it was. Even Harvey, sweet, gentle Harvey, had been so careful not to brush against any of the patches as he made love to Elliott. Elliott had hardly noticed it at the time, but the following morning, it had been something he had brought up. Harvey had looked down into his coffee mug, shame on his face. Elliott remembered the words acutely. _“I’m sorry, Elliott. I know how painful eczema can be. I didn’t want to hurt you. And now I’ve done just that.”_

Harvey was a good man. And a very good lover – Yoba, Becca was lucky, if he was anywhere near as attentive and careful with her as he had been with Elliott. But Sebastian had accepted his skin and acted as though there was nothing amiss. He treated the patches of eczema exactly the same as the parts of Elliott’s skin that were clear. He brushed over them with his hands and his lips, he embraced Elliott tightly, nuzzling against all of him. He made Elliott feel as though his skin didn’t matter. Or even better, as though Sebastian were attracted to his skin as much as he was the rest of him.

Elliott’s heart ached to think of Sebastian. He was already falling for this beautiful creature before him. His feelings had been slowly getting more and more intense, and when Sebastian had been inside of him the first time, Elliott had thought his heart might burst out of his chest. And now, drawing his lips and fingers and tongue lower yet on Sebastian’s body, Elliott felt a constricting spasm in his chest. He needed Sebastian. He had to have all of him.

When he reached Sebastian’s length, Elliott didn’t hesitate. Sebastian let out a loud cry as Elliott engulfed him, taking in as much as he could. He rolled his tongue around the shaft as he lowered and raised and lowered and raised his head, savoring the taste and smell of Sebastian’s skin and how his cries became so much more desperate.

“Ell – Elliott. Please,” Sebastian begged, arcing his neck as Elliott gave him such unbelievable pleasure. For many years, Sebastian had felt like his body was an unfortunate accident, something that he occupied, which often felt separate from him. It was why he liked the cold. When he got numb enough, it felt like his body didn’t exist. He didn’t have to see the skinny chest or arms, the ribs that protruded from him, the patchy facial hair that he could never grow out to any satisfaction, the pale, ghostly skin, the freckles that he’d always hated. He didn’t have to see or feel any of it. He could pretend he wasn’t part of this disgusting, small, pathetic body that he happened from an accident of birth to end up in.

But now, Sebastian felt himself coming alive. The coursing hormones and adrenaline through him, the sharp shocks of pleasure coming from Elliott’s mouth around his erection, the sweat that was starting to bead on his chest and his forehead, the way his stomach felt fluttery and full of desire – he had never known anything like it.

He had never known he could love his body so much.

“Please… please…” Sebastian hardly even knew what he was pleading for. _Please don’t stop. Please love me. Please make me come. Please stay with me. Please don’t leave me. Please promise we won’t stop this._ He had always thought sex was overrated. The actual orgasm, that felt good, of course, he knew that from masturbating. But his time with Abby had been so awful and he’d felt so self-conscious the entire time and afterward that he hadn’t thought he’d ever want to have sex again. And then Elliott – beautiful, kind, smart, funny, wonderful Elliott – had shown him what it could be like.

Sebastian’s moans deepened as Elliott pulled off all but the head and began actively sucking on it. Elliott bobbed his head just slightly, taking in more of the shaft and increasing the pressure on Sebastian. Sebastian’s moans became staccato as his fingers clenched tightly in Elliott’s hair. He could hardly stand how good Elliott was making him feel, and he could tell he was already starting to build toward his release.

“Elliott… Elliott… wait. Wait, I want –” Sebastian managed to get out. Elliott paused and lifted his head, reaching up to push back some of the hair that had become affixed to Sebastian’s forehead with sweat.

“What is it, darling?” he asked. “Tell me.”

“I want to be in you again,” Sebastian said, his breathing heavy. He looked up and into Elliott’s eyes – Yoba, he could fall into those eyes and sink into Elliott. He vaguely realized how much easier he could ask for things in bed now. He had been terrified the first time, afraid to ask for anything. But Elliott had been so patient, so trusting, so willing. And he smiled now at Sebastian and reached across to the end table.

“Almost out,” he murmured, picking up the bottle. “You know, this was more than half-empty before I even came to Pelican Town.” He squeezed some into his hand. “We’ll need to stop at a pharmacy before we leave.”

The comment, offhanded as it was, filled Sebastian with joy. _We’ll do this again. When we get home. It won’t end now._ He moaned as Elliott began stroking him, the lube slick and wet around him, Elliott’s hand soft but gripping with gentle force. Despite the roughness of his chest, Elliott had the softest hands Sebastian had ever felt from all the lotion he put on himself. And when he stroked Sebastian like this, it was so sensual and pure. Elliott’s grip was too slick from the lube to create any real friction, but the difference in sensation almost made Sebastian purr.

And then Elliott started to move his fingers inside of himself, lubricating in preparation for Sebastian. Sebastian almost unconsciously brought his hand to his shaft and began stroking it, watching.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of watching you do that,” he said, his voice throaty.

Elliott looked up, the expression of concentration giving way to confusion. “Preparing myself?” he asked. “Why is that?”

“It’s so…” Sebastian’s mouth was dry and he swallowed. “You look so beautiful. I…” he forced himself to stop and think before he spoke further. “I think it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. Watching your face, seeing you lube yourself up, seeing your expression, knowing it’s so we can be together. It just…” he couldn’t find the words, but Elliott’s expression softened.

He pushed himself up onto his knees and placed his non-lubed hand on the sheets, leaning forward to kiss Sebastian. Sebastian moaned quietly into the kiss as the sparks exploded in his chest once more.

Elliott drew back and slowly shuffled forward. Before Sebastian quite realized it, Elliott was taking Sebastian’s length in his hand and guiding it toward himself. He settled down on his haunches, letting out a long moan as Sebastian entered him. Sebastian leaned back on his elbows, moaning at the feeling of Elliott being around him. For a few seconds, they were quiet and still, savoring the feeling of being joined, of being together. Of their bodies becoming one.

Elliott and Sebastian locked eyes with one another. Both were content to simply breathe and experience each other, Sebastian inside of Elliott, Elliott’s erection pressing against Sebastian’s stomach. Elliott leaned forward, pressing his shins down against the mattress, and brought his hand up to Sebastian’s cheek. His fingers stroked gently against the skin. He wanted desperately to lean down and kiss Sebastian, but knew Sebastian would slip out of him if he did.

Sebastian reached up and placed both hands on Elliott’s face, stroking his own thumbs against his cheekbones and barely daring to believe that he was lucky enough to be here with Elliott, sleeping with him, and feeling a sensation he had never dared to dream would ever be real.

Elliott was the first to speak. “Stay with me,” he said. It wasn’t a question, not exactly, but the tone was pleading. “Please stay with me. I don’t want this to end.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian managed to get out, nodding his head. “Yeah.” It was far from the most eloquent reply, but Elliott could tell what he meant from the emotion and need in his eyes.

Elliott closed his eyes and leaned back up. He placed his hands on Sebastian’s chest and used the leverage to flex his legs, starting to rise and then bring himself back down onto Sebastian. Both men let out a groan of pleasure and lust and desire, almost at the same time. Sebastian watched as Elliott’s face moved from slight discomfort to deep desire. Elliott wanted this. Wanted him. He was making Elliott feel good. He could hardly believe it. Elliott was bigger than him, surely he’d had bigger lovers than Sebastian, but the look on his face couldn’t have been faked. Nor the sounds, the moans, the slight hissing intake of breath.

Elliott kept his eyes closed as he rocked up and down on Sebastian, feeling the length pressing inside of him. Yoba, Sebastian fit in him perfectly. He reached just far enough in to stir desire and emotions without causing him discomfort or pain. He could have done this forever. If Sebastian would have let him, Elliott would have ridden him like this until they were exhausted and unable to move. Elliott let out a long hiss as he pressed down hard, letting Sebastian reach into him and rub at his prostate in a way that released a glorious heat through his abdomen. “Yoba,” he breathed out reverentially.

“Pretty sure that’s – ahhh, yeah, there – sacrilegious,” Sebastian got out, rolling his hips slightly as Elliott leaned back, changing the angle just enough to cause the pressure around him to intensify.

“I don’t care,” Elliott said, opening his eyes, looking down at Sebastian. “Right now, you are my god. And I’ll worship you, however you want.”

Sebastian felt a blossom of heat in his chest. Nobody had ever spoken to him the way Elliott did, and when Elliott trained his gift for words in a way that allowed him to express his desire and his lust, it was almost too much for Sebastian to bear. He wanted to protest, to say that Elliott must be confusing him with someone else, that he couldn’t possibly mean those things. But Elliott was looking at him with such surety and confidence that he knew Elliott meant every word.

Sebastian reached down and placed his hands on Elliott’s hips. “Let me,” he said, looking up. Elliott nodded and adjusted his posture so he was perched on his shins and had his hips raised up. He gave Sebastian another nod and Sebastian began to arch his hips up, moving up into and out of Elliott.

Elliott moaned as Sebastian pressed up into him, guiding himself in and out of Elliott. “Yes – yes – ahhh – please,” he managed to get out as Sebastian began to increase his pace. His moans came after every thrust and soon became a long, desperate call of desire.

Sebastian couldn’t tear his eyes from Elliott’s face as he pumped in and out of Elliott, feeling Elliott’s heat and tightness around him. The knowledge that he was making Elliott feel this way, that he was causing Elliott to lose his words and fall into desire, caused flames to lick at his stomach. He knew that he was starting to get close, that he wouldn’t be able to last that much longer. But however long he lasted, he was going to make Elliott feel good. He focused on Elliott the entire time, driving up into him and feeling joy at every cry Elliott made, the way his face crumpled in pleasure and desperation.

“Please – please – please.” Elliott was reduced to begging as Sebastian drove into him. Sebastian placed the soles of his feet against the mattress, using it as leverage to drive up his thrusts as much as he could. He kept his hands on Elliott’s hips so that he could ensure he was in control. Elliott was nearly sobbing with pleasure, his hands gripping almost painfully onto Sebastian’s chest. His head was lowered, his hair falling around his face and his eyes were closed as the whimpers and syllables fell from him.

Sebastian could tell that the pressure was nearing an unsustainable point. “I’m close. I’m close,” he warned, but didn’t slow his thrusting.

“In me,” Elliott begged. “In me. Come in me. I need it. I need you. Please.”

The words pushed Sebastian the last few inches over his crest and he thrust up into Elliott, crying out as his muscles tensed and his orgasm raged through him. He bucked his hips twice more as he sprayed into Elliott, then collapsed back to the bed, breathing heavily. Before Elliott could move, Sebastian brought his hand from Elliott’s hip to his length and began stroking.

Elliott let out another moan and placed a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “You – you don’t have to –” he began.

“Yes, I do,” Sebastian said. “I have to. And I want to.” He continued stroking Elliott, remaining inside of him and feeling as Elliott squeezed around him, moaning at the sensation.

“A little faster, please,” Elliott all but whispered. Sebastian increased his pace and Elliott’s moan deepened. His breath started coming in shorter gasps as he moved his hips slightly, unable to keep still under the feeling of Sebastian being inside of him and stroking him to completion. “Please,” he whispered.

“I’ve got you,” Sebastian said, his own voice soft. “I want to get you there. Let me.” Elliott whimpered as he felt his stomach growing hot.

“I’m – I’m very close,” Elliott said, squinting his eyes shut and leaning his head back. “Please. Please, I’m so close.”

“Do it,” Sebastian said. “Please, Elliott. Please come for me.” He continued to stroke, feeling the slight leaking from Elliott’s head and the tenseness in his length. Elliott’s moaning became more desperate, almost animalistic. Sebastian continued to stroke. Back and forth. Squeezing as he got near the head. Feeling Elliott’s desire rising. Sensing the tenseness in him, how he was balanced on the knife’s edge of pleasure and agony. Increasing his pace and his grip. Wanting to give Elliott as much pleasure as possible.

Elliott came. He cried out, gripping onto Sebastian’s shoulders and trembling as he shot white ribbons across Sebastian’s stomach and chest. He continued trembling, his breaths ragged and loose. His body felt as though he could barely stay upright.

And then Sebastian was sitting up, putting his arms around Elliott, bringing him in close. Elliott leaned against Sebastian, resting his head on Sebastian’s shoulder and letting his breathing regulate. Sebastian stroked his hair with one hand, his back with the other, and pressed soft kisses against his cheek, his neck, his jaw.

“Thank you,” Elliott finally managed to get out. “Yoba, Sebastian. That was magnificent. You feel so good in me.”

“Not as good as it feels to be in you,” Sebastian said. He closed his eyes. He hated that they had to leave today. He wanted to stay in this room with Elliott forever. He’d never felt safer. He’d never felt like he belonged anywhere or with anyone more. His heart pounded against his ribs. “I don’t want to go home,” he admitted.

“I know,” Elliott sighed. He pulled back and looked at the expression on Sebastian’s face sadly. “I wish we could stay. There are so many things…” he sighed. “But every trip has to come to an end.” He affected a smile and softly kissed Sebastian. “And we really must get in the shower. The train leaves at one, and we need to stop by the pharmacy on the way.”

Sebastian glanced over at the bedside clock. 10:28. _Shit._ Elliott was right, they needed to pack their things and get ready to go. He looked back. “Can we just stay here a couple more minutes, please?” he asked. He pressed his lips against Elliott’s a few times in quick succession. “Please? I don’t want to let go of you yet.”

Elliott let out a sigh of contentment and closed his eyes again. “Of course, darling. We can stay a few minutes longer,” he said.

~~~

After their shower, which took far longer than Sebastian had anticipated with all the rubbing soap or body wash over each other and gentle groping and kissing deeply under the hot, steamy spray, the rest of the morning was a blur. They had to pack. Neither had put anything away the night before and their suitcases were strewn across the room. Elliott didn’t have time to do his entire hair routine and had his long hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. And then they had to check out, and find the nearest pharmacy where Elliott discreetly purchased a bottle of lubricant, and then they were off to Zuzu Central Station.

Sebastian took a moment to smoke a cigarette outside the station. He hadn’t really needed to do so in the way he usually did. Smoking satisfied the same desire that chewing on one of his pens or biting his nails once had. But if he went too long, the scratch and craving for nicotine became too much. _You’re an addict._ He was ashamed of it. He hadn’t intended to get addicted to cigarettes. They’d been a form of rebellion back in high school. It felt good to smoke at first. He felt cool. And it had the added benefit of pissing people off. But now, six years later, he’d come to realize that he _needed_ the nicotine. His body felt like it would shut down if he went too long without a cigarette.

_Maybe I should talk to Dr. Harvey about getting one of those patches or some of that gum._

Sebastian finished his cigarette and stubbed it out in the stand that was set up for safely snuffing them. He exhaled the last breath of smoke and moved over to the entrance. Elliott had waited inside. He was too polite to say anything, but Sebastian could tell Elliott hated it when he smoked. Sebastian couldn’t blame him. It was a disgusting habit. He hated the way the smoke clung to his clothes and his hair. He managed to put a smile on his face as he moved inside and Elliott returned it with a brilliant smile of his own.

“We have about forty minutes before the train,” Elliott said. “If I recall, there’s a lovely sandwich shop on the second floor. We should have enough time to grab something to go, if you’d like?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Sebastian said, following Elliott to the escalators to the second floor of the terminal. They hadn’t had time to grab breakfast, and it was a two-hour train ride back to Pelican Town. He knew he’d be starving if they didn’t eat before they left. He stepped on the escalator behind Elliott and glanced around the floor of Zuzu Central Station. It was beautiful. Everything about it was nicer than anything in Pelican Town.

Sebastian looked up to Elliott, two steps ahead of him on the escalator. He reached out and took Elliott’s free hand, squeezing it. Elliott turned back at him and gave him a smile that made his organs feel like they were going to melt. Elliott returned the squeeze and kept his eyes on Sebastian as they rode up to the second level.

_He wants me. I don’t know why. Why does he want someone like me?_

Everything since they’d arrived in Zuzu City had felt like a blur. They had eaten out, and gotten drinks, and Elliott had his book accepted. And then they slept together. Four times. Sebastian still felt hideously inadequate next to Elliott, who was tall with long, thick hair, and a warm, kind voice, and a model’s face. _You aren’t anywhere near good enough._ The thought had bubbled up before, and now it stuck in Sebastian’s chest, scratching at him and pushing his happiness away. _It’s only a matter of time before he realizes how you really are._

“All right.” Sebastian glanced back to Elliott, who was stepping off the escalator and starting to walk through the upper level without letting go of his hand. “I’m almost certain it’s this way, but some of these shops look new. I hope the place I’m remembering is still here.” Sebastian let Elliott hold his hand as they walked past restaurants and stores, Elliott scanning the storefronts carefully.

“Ah!” Sebastian turned to see Elliott smiling. “There we are. Chambord.” He led Sebastian to a small café with seating overlooking the main terminal. “Sadly, I doubt we have time to sit and eat, but we can at least get our meal to go.”

“Sounds good,” Sebastian said as they got in the back of the small line. “And, um – can I get this? Please?”

Elliott turned and looked at him. He smiled, and once again Sebastian felt as though everything else in the world might cease to be. “Certainly, darling. If you’d like,” he said. Sebastian had to fight the urge to lean up and kiss Elliott right here in the sandwich shop. But that would be too much. Two men holding hands wasn’t a big deal in Zuzu City, the way it would have been back in Stardew Valley. But two men kissing – that would draw attention. Maybe the wrong kind of attention. Sebastian pressed the desire back down into himself and turned his attention to the menu board.

The café looked to be the usual sandwich-and-pastry fare that Sebastian had seen in airports and near bus stations, but the delicious smells were making his stomach gurgle. Dinner had been nearly eighteen hours ago, and he was hungry. The line wasn’t long, but it also wasn’t moving terribly fast, and Sebastian didn’t want to be responsible for them running late to the train. He focused on breathing in and out. _Turkey avocado and a soda. Turkey avocado and a soda. That’s all you need to say._

“Next, please.” The cashier motioned for Sebastian and Elliott to step up. “Are you eating in or taking out?” she asked.

“Takeout, please,” Sebastian said. “Um, yeah, could I get the turkey avocado sandwich, and a bottle of soda?” _Congratulations. You managed not to make a complete idiot of yourself._ He looked over to Elliott, who was considering the board carefully.

“I’d like the caprese sandwich, and a bottle of iced tea, please,” Elliott said. He looked to Sebastian. “Would you mind terribly if I got a pastry? Their lemon blueberry cookies are absolutely to die for.”

Sebastian smiled. “We’ll take two of those,” he said, turning back to the cashier.

As they waited for their food, Elliott occupied the time by pointing out the differences in architectural design in the station to Sebastian, from what pieces were original and which were added in the restoration. Sebastian alternated his gaze from whatever Elliott was pointing at back to Elliott himself. He always had such a pleased look on his face when he was able to show something off. _He’s so freaking smart._ Elliott’s ability to remember small details and talk about them at length intimidated the hell out of Sebastian. But there was something about it that also made him feel comfortable. Elliott didn’t have the _I can’t believe you don’t know this_ attitude a lot of the kids in school did, the ones who were from Grampleton or some other part of the valley with elementary or junior high schools, who hadn’t been taught in the corner of a library because there was no actual teacher. He just loved to share what he knew with Sebastian. He was happy to do it. And Sebastian loved to listen.

“Sebastian?” The word snapped him back to reality. He moved over and took the offered bag of food from the takeout counter and looked back to Elliott.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“I am,” Elliott said, moving out of the restaurant and heading for the bridge over the main terminal. As they walked, Elliott let out a long sigh. “Farewell for now, Zuzu City,” he said.

Sebastian glanced sideways at him. “You really do miss this place, don’t you?”

Elliott nodded. “I do. Terribly,” he said. “It was my home for so long. My first real home in Ferngill.” They continued on for a few moments in silence, and then Elliott came to a pause near the top of the flight of stairs leading down to the platform. He reached over and placed a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder and Sebastian came to a stop, turning to look at him.

“But it isn’t home any longer,” Elliott said. “Pelican Town is my home now.” He stroked at Sebastian’s cheek with his thumb and before Sebastian knew what was happening, Elliott was leaning in and kissing him. The combination of desire and anxiety spiking in him almost made Sebastian feel like he would pass out. There wasn’t anyone around. Elliott wouldn’t have done this out on the street. But anyone could walk by at any time.

And then Elliott pulled back, but kept his face just shy of Sebastian’s. “Pelican Town has you,” he said, “and you’re more wonderful to me than all the marvels of Zuzu City put together.” Sebastian felt his face soften. If he hadn’t been holding the food with one arm and his bag with the other, he would have held Elliott as close as he could manage.

Elliott seemed to realize what he was feeling and leaned in, gently kissing his forehead. “Come, darling. Let me help you with the food,” he said. He accepted the bag of food from Sebastian and the two carefully made their way down the stairs to the platform.

The Stardew Valley Express was already waiting. Zuzu Central Station was its biggest stop, the one that inevitably saw most of its traffic. Unlike other stops, where the train would only pause at the station for a few minutes, it remained stationary at Zuzu Central for the better part of fifteen minutes.

As they reached the train doors and Sebastian fumbled for his phone to show his electronic ticket, a sudden wave of sadness crashed over him. _I’m really going home._ He’d been so happy here, on this trip with Elliott. Going home wasn’t going to be the same. He’d be back down in the basement, working, trying to deal with mom barging in and Demetrius’s lectures and Maru working into the wee hours of morning. Pool on Fridays and rehearsal Saturdays, and everything else just the same routine over and over.

But it wasn’t going to be the same. Not really. He looked up as Elliott handed his ticket over and stepped on the train, carefully finding a place for them to sit. Sebastian showed his virtual ticket to the conductor and followed, sitting next to Elliott. _I have you now._ As Elliott carefully unpacked their sandwiches and handed Sebastian’s to him, he felt a sense of comfort and familiarity settling over him.

_We might be going home, but I have you now._

Eating on the train was only permitted at stops, so Sebastian and Elliott made a point to finish their sandwiches quickly. At one point, Sebastian chuckled and reached up to wipe a small smear of pesto from the corner of Elliott’s mouth.

“Dear me,” Elliott said, checking with his finger to make sure it was gone. “My mother would be horrified to see that. Thank you.”

“Any time,” Sebastian said. He leaned against Elliott’s side, chewing his own sandwich with little fanfare. It was delicious – everything they’d eaten in Zuzu had been – but he was still overwhelmed with a desire to draw this trip out, to make it last. Not that they could. There was no way they could afford another night at the Crossroads, and they’d have to get all their food and drinks and… well, everything.

_Maybe in the future._

When they finished their sandwiches and drinks, Elliott carefully tucked everything back in the brown paper sack and moved to place it in one of the garbage containers on board the train. The cookies had been left out, a treat to be enjoyed at one of the stops along the way. When he returned and sat down next to Sebastian, he rested one arm around the smaller man and pulled him to his side, encircling him with his other arm as he did.

Sebastian pulled his legs up onto the seat and closed his eyes as Elliott embraced him. “This feels so good,” he murmured.

“It does for me, too,” Elliott said. He began stroking Sebastian’s hair. “There’s just something so comforting about you. The way you feel next to me. The way you tuck your head against my neck. It feels wonderful.”

The train doors slid closed. An announcement came over the intercom. “Welcome aboard the Stardew Valley Express, service from Zuzu City through to our termination in Grampleton. Our next stop is Blue Springs Station.”

The train began to move and both Sebastian and Elliott stared out the window as the tall buildings rolled past them.

“The last time I was on this route was the day I arrived in Pelican Town,” Elliott said as the train began to roll past the Zuzu River. “I had three or four large boxes that I had to manage by myself through the station. Nobody to help me. I could feel everyone staring at me. It was awful.”

Sebastian squeezed Elliott’s chest. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I wish I could have made that time better for you.”

Elliott smiled down at him. “You make this time better for me,” he said, kissing the crown of Sebastian’s head. “And I’m glad I went through it. If I hadn’t left, I never would have met you.”

The idea of never having known Elliott seemed impossible, even though a few months back, Sebastian wouldn’t have given more than a moment’s thought to him. He was so important to Sebastian now. Elliott was the first thing he thought about when he woke up and the last thing he thought about before drifting off to sleep.

And then something clicked. Sebastian looked up at Elliott. “Hey, here’s a question,” he said.

“Go ahead,” Elliott said.

“You said the last time you had sex was a little more than a year ago, right?” Sebastian asked.

“About a year and a half, yes,” Elliott said.

“But that was _after_ you moved to Pelican Town,” Sebastian said, a small smile creeping onto his face.

“Are you asking me to kiss and tell?” Elliott asked, a sly smile belying his amusement. He leaned down and kissed the end of Sebastian’s nose. “All right, fine. If you’re that curious. Let’s see if you can guess.”

Sebastian racked his brain. _Who does he spend time with? Where does he go?_ He looked up. “I know he’s a lot older than you, but… Willy?”

Elliott chuckled and shook his head. “No,” he said. “No, Willy is a good friend, but there’s no chemistry between us.”

Sebastian considered, rubbing his chin. The train pulled into the stop at Blue Springs Station, one of the eastern suburbs of Zuzu City. From here, the stretch of prairie and then desert and then mountains remained until they were back in the valley.

“Gunther? You’re always at the library,” Sebastian said.

“Not a bad guess,” Elliott conceded. “I did test the waters there, but he wasn’t interested.”

Sebastian leaned against Elliott. The train doors closed again and the conductor announced the next stop. There weren’t _that_ many people in town. He could rule out the women, and the men who were involved with someone. With Gunther and Willy out, there couldn’t be that many left.

“I’m running out of ideas,” he said, glancing up. “Shane?”

Elliott’s eyes went sad for a moment. “No,” he said. “I truly don’t know how to talk to Shane. I tried to strike up a friendship with him when I moved to town. I saw him quite a bit at the saloon. But when I offered to buy him a drink, he told me to fuck off.” He glanced back down at Sebastian. “I can tell there’s a lot of pain there, but I don’t know much about where it comes from.”

Sebastian was quiet. He knew a lot about Shane and why he was so surly. Marnie was a good friend of mom’s, and he’d heard her talking to mom about Shane, face and voice both furrowed with worry. Marnie didn’t have many relatives, and she and Shane had always been close when he was growing up. After that unpleasantness with his parents, he’d come out to Pelican Town to live with her.

Shane was older than Sebastian and his friend group. Before Alex Mullner, the big hope of the Stardew Valley High gridball team was Shane Nogales. He was the star quarterback, leading the team to two regional title games. Back then, Shane had been lean and muscular and… happy. Alex remembered how much Shane laughed and talked easily.

And then the accident happened. A few kids from Stardew Valley High who went joyriding. Shane wasn’t driving, but he got banged up worse than anybody else. He was lucky to keep his leg. And then his gridball dreams were over. And most of the rest of his dreams, too. Shane had hung around Pelican Town for a couple of years, not doing much of anything, until one of his friends had invited him to go move to the city. Sebastian had been fifteen then. He remembered that Friday how Marnie had started crying at the saloon, and how most of the town had come together around her to reassure her. _He’s fine, Marnie. He’s a smart kid. He’ll be all right._

Eight years later, Shane was definitely not all right. He was broken and jagged and lashed out at everybody around him. Except for Jas. When Sebastian had seen Shane being patient and careful with Jas at the Flower Dance, it was like seeing a little of the old Shane back.

“He’s got a lot going on,” Sebastian said. It was true, but Elliott didn’t need to know just how much. It took a moment for Sebastian to remember what they were doing and he found himself flicking mentally through photographs of the townspeople. None of them seemed to fit. At long last, he finally shrugged. “I don’t know. I give up.”

“You’re sure?” Elliott asked. “I couldn’t convince you to guess again?”

“Come on, tell me,” Sebastian said, giving Elliott’s stomach a playful shove.

Elliott reached up to untie his ponytail and let his hair flow free. After he finished raking it out, he drew a small section of it to the side and lifted it up, draping it over his upper lip. Sebastian furrowed his brow, trying to figure out the message. Then his eyes widened.

“No way,” he said, sitting up. “Harvey? Seriously?”

Elliott chuckled. “Yes, seriously.” He pulled the hair off his lip and began tying his hair back.

“But he’s – I thought he was with Becca,” Sebastian said, furrowing his brows.

“Harvey is bisexual,” Elliott said, finishing getting his hair back in the ponytail. “And this was before Becca even moved to town. It was the December before last.”

Sebastian smirked. “I didn’t know the doc had it in him,” he said.

Elliott gave Sebastian a look that balanced between annoyed and playful. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“He’s just always so serious,” Sebastian said, tucking his legs under himself. “He always treats everything like life or death. Did he take your blood pressure or offer you diet advice while you were doing it?”

Elliott snorted. “I’ll have you know, Harvey is a very thorough and very attentive lover,” he said. “I consider myself lucky to have been with him.” He pulled Sebastian forward onto his lap with Sebastian’s legs to either side of his hips. “And don’t be cheeky.” He pressed his lips against Sebastian’s, drawing Sebastian close to him. As they had been on the trip to Zuzu City, they were the only ones in the car. The other passengers wouldn’t bother them.

Sebastian leaned into Elliott’s kiss and wrapped his arms around Elliott’s back. The moment was perfect. Just the two of them, on the train, the world rolling by outside. Everything else ceased to matter. The taste of Elliott’s mouth, the smell of his body wash and cologne, the feel of his fingers in Sebastian’s hair, the sound of the quiet moans coming from him. It was perfect. Elliott was perfect.

By the time they managed to break from each other’s kissing, the train was already rolling through the Calico Desert. The trip back to Pelican Town would take a little longer, with the train having to climb into the mountains instead of simply descending out of them, but there really wouldn’t be that much more time until they were home.

Sebastian rested his forehead against Elliott’s. He didn’t want this train to ever stop. He wanted to stay here, with Elliott, for the rest of his life. When they got home, he would have to face everyone. And the whispers would start. Sebastian’s stomach suddenly clenched. People would be talking about him and Elliott they way they talked about Lewis and Marnie. Something shameful, something different.

He took in a slight, shuddering breath. “Elliott?” he asked, his voice quieter than it had been before.

Elliott pulled back slightly, his face becoming concerned at seeing Sebastian’s expression. “Yes? What is it?” he asked, placing his hand on Sebastian’s cheek.

Sebastian leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. Elliott felt so good. Everything about being with him just felt so good. He swallowed. “Can you… give me some time to tell my mom and my friends about us?” he asked. He opened his eyes, hoping he wasn’t going to see hurt or pain in Elliott’s expression. “Just… a little while, please? I need to figure out how I’m going to talk about this.”

Elliott smiled softly and took Sebastian’s hands in his own. “If you need some time, then take your time,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed Sebastian once more. “You are worth any wait.”

~~~

It was mid-afternoon by the time the Stardew Valley Express arrived back in Pelican Town. The train pulled to a stop at the train station and Elliott and Sebastian, two of the last passengers aboard, disembarked. Everyone else on board surely was headed to Grampleton. The only towns between Pelican Town and Grampleton were even smaller, hardly ten people apiece. The two men stepped onto the platform and Sebastian looked around, eyebrows raised.

“Okay. I am officially surprised,” he said, looking back to Elliott. “I thought for sure mom would be waiting here to ask eight billion questions about our trip.”

Elliott chuckled. “Well, it’s not so late. She doesn’t close for business until five, yes?”

“I guess,” Sebastian said. He let out a long breath. They were home. Back in Pelican Town. He already could feel his stomach starting to clench up. In Zuzu City, they had been free. They weren’t notable enough to stare at or to whisper about. But that was going to change now.

Sebastian stepped closer and put his arms around Elliott, closing his eyes and resting his head against Elliott’s chest. Elliott encircled Sebastian with his arms and rested his chin atop Sebastian’s head. “It’ll be fine, darling,” he said quietly. “We can navigate this slowly. And you can always come visit me at the cabin.”

Sebastian nodded and squeezed Elliott’s chest again. “Let me… give me just a minute, please,” he said. “I just want to hold you.”

Elliott kissed Sebastian’s forehead and stroked his hair. He remembered being terrified of telling mum and dad about his first relationship, even though he had been out to them for ages. There was something about opening that aspect of himself up, of showing it to others completely, that made him feel like a specimen on a dissection table. He doubted Maru or Robin or Demetrius would react badly. They were all kind people. A little overbearing, true – Elliott could understand why Sebastian felt stifled, but he suspected that Sebastian would end up craving going back to see them if he were away for any real length of time.

Especially Robin. The way Sebastian had hugged her before they left told Elliott that Sebastian cared about Robin the way he cared about mum. Even if mum could be a little nosy with wanting to know what went on in his life, he was crazy about her. A pang of homesickness hit him suddenly. _I’m going to call mum tomorrow. I’ll get up early and call her._

After a couple of minutes, Sebastian let out a long breath and withdrew. “Okay,” he said. “I just want to drop my bag off at home and then I’ll walk you down to the beach.”

“Are you sure? That’s an awfully long way,” Elliott said.

“Yes. Yes, I’m completely sure,” Sebastian said, taking his hand and squeezing it. He looked up at Elliott, eyes suddenly a little bashful. “I just… I want to spend as much time with you as I can,” he said.

Elliott’s eyes softened and he leaned in, pressing a quick kiss against Sebastian’s lips. “You can come see me anytime,” he promised. He squeezed Sebastian’s hand again. “Now, let’s go.”

Sebastian nodded and started walking away from the train station. Pelican Town itself was not technically within Stardew Valley, but on the outside slopes of the valley itself. The train station was near the top of the mountain pass, not far from the bathhouse that Sebastian always told himself he would spend more time at but never did. From the train station, it was a five-minute walk to the path leading down the mountain. It wasn’t far to his house from here. And then it would just be straight down the mountain into town and to the beach.

Sebastian and Elliott walked in comfortable silence. As much as Elliott could talk about anything, he had realized how sometimes Sebastian needed to be alone with his thoughts. He wasn’t angry or upset when his brow furrowed like that, it was just his way of considering what was happening and how he might respond to it.

Elliott’s heart ached in his chest. He wanted to pull Sebastian aside, to lie with him by the lake and kiss him deeply, openly, without shame or the need for it. But he knew Sebastian was afraid. Of what, Elliott still didn’t know. With time, he trusted Sebastian would come to confide in him. Until then, he would have to be patient.

“Okay. Brace yourself,” Sebastian said as they neared the front door of the carpenter’s. Elliott smiled and followed Sebastian through the front door. Sebastian stopped and looked around. “Huh,” he said, turning on the light. “It’s not Friday, is it?”

“Thursday,” Elliott said. “Perhaps your mother has a job? I know Becca said there were a few buildings she was going to construct.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it,” Sebastian said. He dropped his bag and tucked it to one side, turning the light off and stepping back out, motioning for Elliott to follow him. “Well, gift horses and mouths and all that,” he said, moving away from the house.

Elliott made sure the door was shut behind them and followed Sebastian. He hoped that there hadn’t been too much gossip about the two of them going away on a trip together. He knew how sensitive Sebastian was to people talking about him, and Elliott couldn’t blame him. He had certainly endured his share of bullying or snide remarks, jibes at his accent, his vocabulary, his style of dress, the way he carried himself. He tried not to let on how it hurt, but it did. And he knew Sebastian had to be feeling a similar way, whenever anyone spoke about him.

_I wish I could protect you from all the world’s pain._

Sebastian was a step and a half ahead of Elliott, clearly much more familiar with these paths than Elliott himself was. His pace was quicker, his footing more sure. Elliott had grown up in a city, and Pangolais had hardly anywhere near the topography Ferngill did. He was still getting accustomed to the sudden changes in elevation, and sometimes he could get lightheaded going from one elevation to another too quickly.

And then Sebastian stopped in his tracks. Elliott paused and came up next to him. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Look.” Elliott followed Sebastian’s gaze and quirked his head to the side.

“Did they repair the old community center?” he asked.

“I… hadn’t heard anything about it,” Sebastian said. He furrowed his brow. “Mom offered to fix it up a few years ago, but Lewis told her no, that there wasn’t any money for it. I haven’t been in there since… I probably was twelve the last time.”

“Would you like to go?” Elliott asked. Sebastian turned to look up at him.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, actually, I would.” He started walking over to the community center. The building looked completely different than it had before they left. Before, it looked like it was rotting away, warped wood and snaking vines giving it the impression that too stiff a breeze could take the entire place down. But now, the wood looked new. The paint, a pleasing shade of eggplant purple, covered any of the old spots of disuse or disarray. And even the clock outside the center worked now.

Elliott had never been inside the community center, but when he and Sebastian stepped inside, he was completely taken away. It looked as though it had never fallen into disrepair at all. Along one wall, a tank full of fish bubbled happily. Several plush couches offered a place to sit and read some of the books that were in the shelves along the left side of the entryway. A corner for arts and crafts, no doubt for the children, featured cheerful paint and cartoon characters the likes of which Elliott didn’t recognize.

And most importantly, what appeared to be the entire town was present, milling about, exchanging smiles and laughs and stories. Elliott felt as though Pelican Town had magically transformed into a different place while he and Sebastian were away.

He looked over to Sebastian, who seemed as confused as he was. Sebastian started moving through the crowd and Elliott followed, not willing to lose sight of him.

“Sam. Hey! Sam!” Sebastian said, spotting his spiky-haired friend and reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. Sam turned from his laughing conversation with Shane – Shane? _Laughing?_ – and grinned.

“Seb, you’re back!” he said, grinning. “Isn’t this great? Becca’s been working on this big secret project for a year now. I had no idea. Nobody did.”

“Becca did this?” Sebastian asked, looking around. “How? I – this place was a dump two days ago, it didn’t look like this at all.”

Sam shrugged. “Beats me. But it’s just like it used to be,” he said. “Oh, man, you missed it. Abby’s dad knocked Morris the fuck out. It was _awesome_.”

 _“What?”_ Sebastian asked. He was starting to suspect the lemon-blueberry cookies that he and Elliott had eaten a couple stops back might have been laced with hallucinogens. “Is Morris calling the cops or…?”

“Nah, he’s gone,” Sam said, laughing. “Damn. I’m out of a job, but it feels great. I feel _great,_ Seb. Hey, Elliott,” he said, suddenly spotting Elliott behind Sebastian.

“Sam, hello,” Elliott said, managing a smile. “This certainly seems to be quite the celebration.”

“You should see Lewis,” Shane said wryly, nodding his head in the direction of the mayor, who had one arm around Becca’s shoulders. He gesticulated wildly with the other hand, telling some story that everyone present had clearly heard many times before but laughed along with anyway.

“Nothing makes him happier than somebody else paying money so he doesn’t have to,” Shane said, his tone sardonic.

Sebastian chuckled grimly. “No kidding,” he said. He glanced around. “Sam, is my mom here?”

“Yeah, she’s – I think she and Demetrius are checking out some of the other rooms,” Sam said. “Harvey and Maru took Pierre to go get his wrist iced, but I think everybody else is here.”

Sebastian mumbled a thanks and started winding his way through the crowd, ducking around Gus and Pam’s conversation and moving toward the direction Sam had pointed him in. Elliott considered following him, but Sebastian seemed to have a clear idea of what he needed to do. Sam and Shane had gone back to their conversation, which from what Elliott could make out had something to do with how neither of them were ever going to get a job where they had to get up before nine in the morning ever again.

And then Elliott spotted a single gray-haired figure sitting alone on one of the couches. He moved over and carefully took a seat. Evelyn had her hands folded in her lap, eyes misty as she glanced around the community center.

“Is everything all right, Granny?” Elliott asked.

Evelyn looked up with a small smile. “Yes,” she said. “Better than all right. I never…” she paused. “I wasn’t sure if I would ever see this place put to right. It was like everything else around here. Just slowly fading into dust. Fading away to nothing.” She was quiet for a long moment. “You know, I grew up here in Pelican Town.” She glanced to Elliott again. “And George did, too. Our daughter, Clara, was born here. And then Alex. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, but for so long, it’s just been…”

Evelyn placed a hand to her mouth and Elliott carefully placed an arm around her shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze. Evelyn wrapped her arms around Elliott and a single choked sob escaped her. “I was afraid I was going to outlive this place,” she said. “This town has been dying for so long. I thought it would just continue to wither up. But now, I…” Evelyn wiped at her eyes. “I actually have hope. For the first time in a very long while.”

Elliott gently hugged Evelyn again. “There are a lot of reasons to have hope,” he said, smiling at her. “I’ve certainly fallen in love with this little town by the sea.” He looked back up at Lewis and Becca, locking eyes with the farmer for just a moment. She gave him a knowing wink and turned back to the conversation. Elliott chuckled.

“You know, my mother used to say that things will always work out in the end,” he said, turning back to Evelyn. “And if they aren’t working out, then it isn’t the end.” Evelyn smiled and wiped at her wrinkled cheeks once more.

“Your mother sounds like a wise lady,” she said.

“Oh, she’s wonderful. You and mum would get along like a house afire,” Elliott said. He let out a long breath. “Granny, I’m going to stay here,” he said. Evelyn’s blue eyes lit up at that.

“For good?” she asked, taking his hand.

“For good,” he said, squeezing her hand back. “I just have to get my book revised, and then I plan on buying a home. Preferably not my current address, but if nothing else works,” he chuckled.

“Oh, Elliott, I’m so glad,” Evelyn said, reaching up to pat his cheek. “And perhaps soon someone in town will catch your eye and then there will be an army of adorable little auburn-haired ragamuffins running about.”

Elliott laughed. “Well, one step at a time,” he said. He glanced up and saw Sebastian talking animatedly to Robin, who had as happy an expression on her face as Elliott had ever seen. Elliott turned back to Evelyn. “It truly is a wonderful place, Pelican Town,” he said. “And I think I’ll be quite happy here.”

“It’s a community again,” Evelyn said, kindly but firmly. “It wasn’t for a very long while, but now…” she chuckled. “George has to be wondering where on earth I am. I couldn’t get him to turn off his blasted westerns and follow all the noise going up here. No doubt he’ll come up before too long.”

Elliott smiled. “I’m sure he’ll be just as excited as you are to see the place looking how it used to,” he said. He glanced around, looking at the faces of the residents and feeling a sense of happiness and gratitude settle upon him.

Near the fireplace, Caroline and Abigail were chatting with Willy, sharing a laugh about something that clearly had to do with the fishtank they each kept stealing looks at. Elliott had never seen the mother and daughter look so comfortable near each other. 

Gus and Pam were talking with Clint, all looking years younger than they had previously. It was more than the smiles – there was a lightness in their eyes and in their voices that Elliott had hardly heard from any of them.

Penny stood not far from her mother, chattering with Alex and Haley and Emily. No doubt the four of them had grown up together, had seen this place back in its heyday and then watched it crumble into ruin. Elliott couldn’t imagine how important the community center must have been for them growing up.

Marnie, Jodi, and Kent sat on the floor near the play area with Vincent and Jas, watching them sort through toys and books and talking excitedly about what they were going to play with first.

Looking around at his community, content and happy, Elliott felt something he hadn’t before.

It was home now. He was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this chapter took an extra day to get up; the first two weeks back to work were quite busy, but I expect I’ll be able to get back to the Friday upload schedule from here on out.
> 
> I’m beyond excited to say that [atlasio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlasio/pseuds/atlasio) is at it again with the amazing fanart. Check out [these gorgeous portraits](https://atlasio.tumblr.com/post/639356082104434688/a-couple-of-arts-that-are-inspired-by-scenes-from) she did of Sebastian and Elliott’s date night in Zuzu City. I love how she’s captured all the details I wrote about, not just big things like the color of their shirts or Sebastian’s piercings, but subtleties as well, like how in the picture she did of the Solarian Chronicles game, Sebastian’s red roots were starting to come through but his hair in these new portraits is dyed black again. I am so, so, so unbelievably grateful for this amazing work and again would urge you to go to atlasio’s [Tumblr](https://atlasio.tumblr.com/) and give her all the credit in the world for her incredible pieces.
> 
> I’m also amazed at how this story has blown up in readership over the last few weeks. At the end of chapter 8, I mentioned how excited I was to be at nearly 1000 views. Now, two chapters later, that has nearly doubled to almost 2000 views. This story also became my first work on AO3 to ever hit 100 kudos, and then just kept going from there. The kind, wonderful response you’ve all had to my work is incredibly gratifying, and I really hope you enjoy where the story goes from here.
> 
> Next time, we’ll get some more about Elliott’s revision process and his future plans. With just about a month left to get his book back to Cynthia, he’ll be burning the midnight oil, and Sebastian will have to learn how to be a supportive partner – without giving away what’s going on with them. Thank you all again for how much feedback and support you’ve given me throughout this story. I couldn’t have written this much and been this on-track without you. You’re all aces. See you next week, guys!


	11. Indelible Ink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes: The song I listened to while writing this chapter was “Columbus” by Mary Black, found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D5dOLgUZv_I).

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.”  
-Anaïs Nin

It wasn’t that Elliott hated revising his writing so much as there were just so many other things he would rather be doing. The writing part, getting everything out on the page, letting his creative juices flow, seeing where the story went, that was exciting. He loved that part. But revising was slow. It was methodical. It required him to look at his work with a critical eye, to determine whether a particular verb was the best choice or if he should use another, to consider the entire scope of the novel when determining the order of scenes, to ensure that he had properly laid enough information for his readers to understand the history of the planet Abraxas and its conflicts with the Planetary Collective.

It took time. And he didn’t have that much time. After he and Sebastian had returned from Zuzu City, they had spent much of the rest of the day at the community center with the rest of the town. And then Sebastian had walked him home. Standing in the doorway of the cabin, arms around each other, stealing a last few kisses from one another, Elliott hadn’t wanted Sebastian to go. He wanted to beg him to stay, to lie in bed with him and sleep next to him, so that Elliott could wake up and see Sebastian there in the morning.

But his cabin wasn’t fit for having overnight guests. The creaking noise of the wood, the drafts around the door, the terrible water pressure, none of it was appropriate. Sebastian lived in a nice house. He was used to having things around that worked. And Elliott was even more embarrassed about the state of his cabin after they had spent two days at such an elegant hotel. The wood seemed even more warped, the finishings even shabbier. And that, more than anything, was what kept him from asking Sebastian to stay the night. He didn’t want Sebastian to be uncomfortable. Besides, his bed wasn’t anywhere near big enough for them both to sleep in.

So he worked. He spent the first three full days back taking apart the battle scene as Cynthia had suggested and reordering it, running it through first from Lieutenant Crane’s perspective, and then from General Hollings’s perspective, and finally from Inari’s. It took time, and he found himself taking more than one brisk stroll on the beach in frustration, but he eventually got through the worst of it. Cynthia had been right, he had to admit. The flow worked much better, and he was able to ensure each character’s voice was represented.

With the most pressing revision taken care of, Elliott sat down the following morning with Cynthia’s list, prioritizing what he needed to do and in what order. Some fixes were simple – they would take an hour or less of searching through the document and replacing words that had somehow not been caught in his initial drafting. Others would be a great deal more onerous. Most troubling, he would have to figure out how to accurately describe the ecosystem of the planet. He had very little idea of how to make his descriptions cohesive. Science had never been his strong suit. He loved the natural world, loved walking and sitting in nature, but he wasn’t as aware of the interconnections between living things as much as he should have been.

And so Elliott found himself a week and a half removed from his trip to Zuzu City, sitting at his desk, a mug of cooling tea in one hand, the fingers of the other drumming senselessly on the table. The words on the screen swam together. He had been staring at his computer so much over the last few days that his eyes had started to ache.

_Bollocks. This is going to make me start wearing glasses._

His eyes hadn’t ever been the strongest, but he’d managed to keep the need for glasses at bay. He’d resisted them, first out of a sense of vanity and then out of a sense of pride. But he was getting older. He was only a few months away from thirty-two, and at his last checkup, Harvey had mentioned how important it was to get an eye exam.

Elliott set his mug down and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. He needed a break. He had been working for four days straight. And the rain wasn’t helping. Summer rains in Ferngill were far more intense than the rains at other times of the year. Elliott was used to the gentle rains of Pangolais, the consistent drizzles that lasted a few days at a time, that lulled him into relaxation. Ferngill’s rains were stronger, not as long, usually lasting only a day or so, but the sound of the rain on the roof drowned out his thoughts. The occasional crack of thunder jolted him from what he was working on. It was harder to work when it stormed.

Elliott twisted his back, grimacing slightly as he stretched it out. He always felt when he hunched over the computer like this. _I’m getting old._ He remained in the twist, elbow resting over the back of his seat as he looked at the windows. He could make out the sea, churning in the storm. The rain wasn’t going to stop any time soon. He could either continue sitting here and making no progress or he could do something that might make him feel a bit better.

And then he remembered. _I’m someone who comes with the rain._ He hadn’t seen the old mariner since that day on the beach. He still wasn’t sure if he had hallucinated the entire thing. But today was as good a day as any to find out.

Feeling slightly foolish, Elliott pulled his coat on and stepped into his boots. Living on the beach made it almost impossible to wear any other type of shoe. He grabbed his umbrella and opened the door, inhaling the beautiful scent of the ocean and rain, a mixture of salt and fresh water that made his soul feel alive. Elliott opened the umbrella and stepped out into the storm.

He wasn’t worried about lightning. In all the time he had been living in Pelican Town, there hadn’t been a lightning strike on the beach itself. And certainly not since Becca had set up all those lightning rods around the perimeter of Amethyst Farm. Elliott closed the door behind himself and began walking toward the small bridge, his boots crunching slightly in the wet sand underneath.

At first, Elliott thought that nobody was there. The sea grapes and overhang hid the hunched figure from view. But then as he neared, the head lifted and he was greeted with a small smile of recognition.

“Hello, lad,” the old mariner said. “Come back to see me, have you?”

“Indeed,” Elliott said, crouching on his haunches and keeping the umbrella above himself. “I wanted to thank you for your conversation the last time we spoke. You were very kind. I must have seemed to be in quite a state.”

“You were starving.” The old mariner spoke simply, without judgment. “I could see it in your face. You look better now.”

“I was,” Elliott admitted. “And I feel better. I’m lucky enough to have people who care about me. They weren’t going to let anything happen to me.”

“That’s good, lad,” the old mariner said. He glanced up at the sky. “It’s important to surround yourself with the ones who love you. And the ones who you love.” He looked back to Elliott. “I can see you’ve got a spark in your eye the likes of which you didn’t have the last time I saw you. Things going well with that boy?”

Elliott felt a slight burn to his cheeks, but it was a pleasant feeling, not one of embarrassment. “Very well, thank you,” he said. “I’m extremely happy. It’s quite new, but I feel…” he trailed off. He wasn’t sure what it was, but something about this old fisherman made him feel comfortable, like he could speak openly about his feelings for Sebastian.

“I feel happier than I have in years,” Elliott said, meeting the old mariner’s eyes. “Something about him makes my heart sing. My soul comes to life when I see him. When I hold him, it feels like my blood runs faster through my veins. When he kisses me, I can feel sparks, not even just see them. He’s so very important to me.”

“Aye,” the old mariner said, nodding. “I can see that. He’s a part of your heart now. The ones who matter to us, they find their way in. I can see he’s latched onto yours and he’ll always be in there now. The ones we love, they’ll always be a part of us, no matter whether our paths stay the same or if they diverge.”

They remained in amiable silence for a few moments before Elliott, smiling, asked, “So, didn’t you say there was something about a pendant that I should try to get from you?”

The corner of the old mariner’s mouth twitched up slightly. “Eager, aren’t you?” he asked. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the cerith shell pendant. It was just as beautiful as Elliott remembered. Something inside of him twinged and all he could think of was how stunning it would look around Sebastian’s neck. The way the blue would shine against his pale skin and brighten the black of his wardrobe. How his hazel eyes would glow to see it. The thought was overwhelming in its warmth and Elliott sank into it. He felt as though he were resting inside the shell with Sebastian, surrounded by glowing blue on all sides and safe from anything in the world that might harm them.

And then the old mariner spoke again. “I can see in your eyes and your heart how special that boy is to you,” he said. “But I don’t know if you’re ready for this just yet.”

“Why not?” Elliott asked, looking up and breaking his gaze from the pendant. “He’s so very important to me.”

“Lad,” the mariner said gently. “This is how you tell him you want to spend the rest of your lives together.”

Elliott felt a wave of realization crash over him. _A marriage proposal. Not a ring, a pendant._ “This is… what they do in Ferngill?” he asked.

“In the places connected to the older times, yes,” the mariner said. “Here, and Grampleton, and the desert, and the other places around the nation. Not in the big cities, they wear rings there. But anyone who’s from the valley, anyone who grew up here will know this tradition. Your boy certainly would.”

Elliott glanced back down at the shell. “It’s too early,” he said softly. “As much as I care for him, that’s far too early.”

“Aye,” the mariner said, voice still gentle. “Not saying that it’ll never be, just not now.” He carefully tucked it away back into his jacket. “And besides, you need to have a proper home if you’re going to ask someone to share it with you.”

Elliott turned his head, looking back to his cabin. From here, it looked even more pitiful than up close. The rain was coming so steadily and bringing a slight mist up from where it hit the beach. His cabin looked as though it were floating slightly, as though it could just decide on its own to slide down the beach and into the sea and float off over the waters, never to be seen again. He sighed.

“I’m so close to being done with my book,” he said, turning back to the mariner. “And then there will be money, and I can have it fixed up. Or maybe I can even afford to have a house of my own built.”

“That will take some time,” the mariner said. “But time isn’t a bad thing. Time allows us to consider things. We can weigh their value and worth and determine if they’re what we need. Sometimes a thing that seems precious at first turns out not to be. And other times we might have ignored a thing at first only to realize its value belatedly.” He smiled, somewhat sadly. “I can feel how genuine your emotions are. They spill out of you all over. You can’t keep them in, can you, lad?”

Elliott laughed softly. “No,” he admitted. “No, I’ve worn my heart on my sleeve ever since I was a little boy.”

“That’s what he needs, you know,” the mariner said. “He’s been hurt, quite a bit, by those who would tell him to keep his emotions and his feelings locked up. He needs someone to coax them out of him. When he realizes he can show them and he doesn’t have to keep them locked down, deep inside of him where no one can see, he’ll be happier.”

Elliott felt a crush of sadness inside of his chest. “Who’s told him that?” he asked the mariner.

“People,” the mariner replied simply. “People and places and things. He feels as deeply as you do, you know, but he’s had to keep all that feeling inside instead of letting it out. He’s in a good deal of pain, you know.”

 _My poor Bastian._ Elliott looked down at the sand. He wanted to protect Sebastian from the world. He wanted to create a place that was safe for them both, where Sebastian didn’t have to keep his barriers up. Someplace where they could both be free, to love each other completely and wholly, without fear of what might be said or who might think things about them.

“How can I help him?” he asked at long last, looking back up to the mariner.

“Be there for him,” the mariner replied simply, settling back onto his haunches. “Tell him how much you care, let him open up slowly. The grit that gets into an oyster is painful, but over time, it becomes a beautiful pearl. He’s still coping with the grit. Give him time and space and clarity, and eventually you’ll see the pearl.”

The mariner lowered his head, the brim of his wide hat covering his face, and he was still once more. Elliott remained crouched before him, the rain beating against his umbrella. He wasn’t sure if the mariner could hear him or see him or sense him. Or even if the mariner was alive. Eventually, he cleared his throat and said, “Thank you,” quietly, before standing.

The rain picked up and Elliott braced his umbrella against it, moving back to the bridge leading to the main beach. The tidal pools were overflowing and he had to watch his step carefully so that he didn’t sink his boots into a wet slurry of sand and water.

Once he was over the footbridge, he moved back to his cabin and opened the door, using the umbrella to keep the rain out as he kicked off his boots and stepped inside. He closed the umbrella and the door and tied the umbrella up, letting it drip dry just inside the entrance to the door.

Elliott surveyed the inside of his cabin. It was dingy, and small, and the drafts were still coming in. But at least it was summer and they weren’t as cold as they normally were. _I’ll make some more tea,_ he decided. _I’ll make some tea and then I’ll get back to work._

If he was going to get that pendant for Sebastian at any point, he had to have a proper home. And he couldn’t have a proper home without money. And he couldn’t have money without finishing his revisions.

_The sooner I get these back to Cynthia, the sooner I can have a proper place for myself. And for him._

Elliott moved over to the kitchen and started to fill the tea kettle.

~~~

June tenth was a day Sebastian dreaded. Not with the same revulsion that he did the Flower Dance, but June tenth was the day of his annual exam at Dr. Harvey’s. He hated going to the doctor. Had hated it ever since he was young. Even back in Grampleton, he remembered the doctors being concerned that he was small for his age, that he wasn’t weighing enough, that he was lagging behind where he should be. Harvey was nicer than the other doctor who had been in town before, an old, overweight man who was gruff and asked questions with all the warmth of a drill sergeant. But Sebastian still hated going to the doctor’s office.

Now that Maru was working there, there was no getting out of it. She’d know if he skipped his appointment, and she’d bring it up at dinner, and then there would be questions and mom worrying about his health, and then he’d have a double dose of guilt. So, much earlier than he wanted, he was out and walking down the hill toward town.

The one good thing about taking the day to go into town was that he could go see Elliott after. The thought warmed Sebastian more than the sun and humid air did. He hadn’t gotten as many chances to spend time with Elliott as he wanted after they’d come back from Zuzu City, but every time, he’d luxuriated in the feel and smell and touch and taste of Elliott as much as he could. He craved Elliott more than he craved cigarettes. Elliott’s touch soothed him more than the pot did. It was as though being around Elliott was the panacea to everything wrong with him. He didn’t feel ugly or short or weird or awkward or anything that he normally felt when Elliott’s arms were around him, when Elliott was kissing his neck or whispering some beautiful combination of words into his ear that wove around him and kept him in place.

Maybe he could hurry Harvey through the appointment. It wasn’t like there was that much different about him this year than the year prior. He was twenty-two then and now he was twenty-three. He was the same height, the same weight. He wasn’t on any new medications. His work was the same. He just wanted this to get over with.

Sebastian glanced at the community center as he passed. He still found himself drawn to it, seeing it as it had once been. He could hardly believe Becca had managed to pull everything together on her own. If he didn’t know any better, he’d figure she was a witch, how she managed to keep the farm running and be popular with everyone in town and go to the mines and be fishing constantly and – and – and – and –

She made him feel inadequate. Most people did, but Becca was only a few years old than him. And she had her life together in a way nobody else he’d ever known did. If he hadn’t liked her so much, he would have hated her for making him feel like he couldn’t possibly keep up.

By the time Sebastian made it to the town square, the temperature had risen enough to make sweat break out on his brow. He hated summer. He couldn’t bring himself to wear his hoodie today, knowing how miserable he’d feel, so he was clad in just a black t-shirt and jeans. He felt exposed. The hoodie felt like armor, something to keep the rest of the world at bay. He kept his head down, trying to avoid glances or greetings, and pushed his way into the clinic.

Maru was behind the counter already. She looked up as he entered and gave him a smile that he didn’t return. “Hi, Seb,” she said.

“Hey,” he managed, moving to take a seat in the waiting room.

“I’ll tell Harvey that you’re here. It should only be a few minutes,” she said, moving to open the file cabinet and pull his chart.

Sebastian didn’t reply. He pulled his legs up onto the seat with him and tucked them against his chest. It was just going to be an hour. An hour or so, and then it would be over, and he could go see Elliott. Elliott would make him feel better. He wouldn’t have to –

And then he froze. _Shit._ He’d forgotten what Elliott had told him. How he had slept with Harvey after he came to town. The thought bubbled up uncomfortably and wrapped around Sebastian’s brain, squeezing it. Harvey was older, probably had a lot more experience. Sebastian didn’t want to think about how Harvey had once been where he had been, pressing inside of Elliott and making Elliott moan and plea for more. A hot jealous streak arced inside of him.

“Sebastian? We’re ready for you now.” Sebastian looked up at Harvey’s kind face and smile and tried not to snap a response. _It’s not his fault. Get a hold of yourself._ He pushed off the seat and shuffled back to the exam room. Harvey let him step inside and closed the door behind him, looking through his chart as he sat in the chair.

“All right, so you’re just here for your yearly checkup, yes?” Harvey asked him.

“Yeah,” Sebastian said.

“Any new concerns? Anything bothering you, any pains or pressures or something that doesn’t feel right?” Harvey asked.

Sebastian shook his head.

“Okay,” Harvey said, setting the chart down. He stood up. “Let’s start by getting your height and weight. Stand over here against the wall.” Sebastian moved to the sliding height chart and stood as straight as he could, as though that would make him suddenly taller. Harvey moved the meter down and recorded the height.

“Five-seven,” he said, writing the numbers down. “And if you could step on the scale for me?” Sebastian obliged, watching as Harvey had to move the two measures down considerably.

“And a hundred nineteen, okay,” Harvey said, jotting down. “That’s about what you were last year. Still a little underweight. But you said you’ve always had trouble gaining weight, right?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said. “When I was a kid, I was so skinny they were worried.”

“Well, as long as you’re not malnourished, being a little bit underweight isn’t the end of the world,” Harvey said. “We’ll see what your bloodwork says. All right, on the table, please.”

Sebastian sat on the exam table, hearing the paper cover crinkle underneath him. He stared ahead at nothing as Harvey checked his blood pressure, heart, lungs, eyes, ears. He felt like one of Demetrius’s specimens as Harvey hmm’d and ahhh’d and I see’d.

Harvey finished recording his findings and took a seat, looking at Sebastian. “For the most part, your vital signs are typical for a man your age,” he said. “Your lungs aren’t sounding completely healthy, but given that you are a smoker, that’s not unexpected. Have you given any more thought to quitting?”

Sebastian swallowed. “Yeah, I…” he began. He bit his lip. “What are my options?”

“I don’t really recommend cold turkey,” Harvey said, putting his notepad down. “That’s a quick way to falling off the wagon. I have seen some patients succeed with either a patch or nicotine gum. There are also some prescriptions I could provide you with. Those would let you still smoke for a bit while you wean yourself off. Do any of those sound appealing?”

Sebastian considered. “Maybe the pills?” he asked. “I dunno. I can give them a try.”

“Sounds good,” Harvey said, picking up his prescription pad. “I’m very glad to hear you’re thinking about quitting, this is one of the best things you can do for your health.” He scribbled out something and signed the bottom, handing it to Sebastian. “Send this to the pharmacy in Grampleton and your prescription should be here within a week.”

Sebastian took the prescription and tucked it into his pocket. “Thanks,” he said.

“It’s my pleasure,” Harvey said. He looked back at his chart. “All right, just a few more questions,” he said. “Do you have an exercise regimen?”

“No,” Sebastian said.

“Might want to consider picking one up,” Harvey said. “Even just moderate walking a few times a week can help. That’ll also help your lung capacity.”

“I hate sweating,” Sebastian said.

Harvey chuckled. “Then maybe something that doesn’t involve sweating,” he said. “How about swimming? The sea is beautiful this time of year, and you could go up to the hot springs in the winter.”

“I’ll think about it,” Sebastian said. That was code for no. He knew Harvey knew it, but there was no other way he was going to get out of here.

“Please do,” Harvey said, looking at the next entry. “How is your diet? Are you getting a good number of fruits and vegetables?”

“Yes,” Sebastian said.

“Very good,” Harvey said, making a note. “Are you sexually active?”

Sebastian’s stomach tightened in a knot. “Yes,” he said.

Harvey was about to make a note, then paused. He looked up. If he was surprised, he managed to keep a neutral expression. “One partner or multiple?” he asked evenly.

Sebastian swallowed. He was quiet for a long moment.

“Sebastian?” Harvey asked. He adjusted on his seat, leaning a bit closer. “Is everything all right?”

Sebastian looked up, meeting Harvey’s eyes. “How… how private is all this?” he asked.

“I’m your doctor, nothing you tell me goes out of this clinic,” Harvey said, a serious expression on his face. “You have complete confidentiality with me.”

“I mean… can anybody look in the charts?” Sebastian asked.

Understanding dawned in Harvey’s eyes. “Ohhh,” he said. “I can assure you Maru is a professional. But if you’d prefer, I can keep your chart locked in my office instead of out with the others in the file cabinet.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, nodding. “Yeah, please.”

Harvey flipped the chart closed and made a small note on the upper corner. “Okay,” he said, turning back to Sebastian with what he could tell was meant to be a reassuring smile. “Are you ready to continue with the exam?”

Sebastian nodded.

“So, one partner or multiple?” Harvey asked.

“One,” Sebastian said.

“Are you and your partner using protection?” Harvey asked.

“No,” Sebastian said.

“Do you need access to protection?” Harvey asked. “There’s the standard condoms, but your partner can also get an IUD or birth control pills. Or we can talk about spermicides or something else.”

“That’s not – it isn’t necessary,” Sebastian said quietly. “It’s – he’s a man.”

“Ah, I see,” Harvey said, jotting a note down. “Well, that takes care of any pregnancy worries.”

Despite himself, Sebastian chuckled.

“Do you ever find you have shortness of breath or heart palpitations at moments you shouldn’t?” Harvey asked. “Not talking about after you’ve gone for a run, but things like walking up a flight of stairs, cleaning up your house, very mild activity.”

Sebastian shook his head.

“Any lightheadedness or vertigo?” Harvey asked.

“No,” Sebastian said.

“And how is your sleeping pattern? Do you get eight hours a night?” Harvey asked.

Sebastian hesitated. “Yeah, but I –” he paused. “I find it hard to fall asleep at a normal time. I don’t usually get up until ten in the morning and I fall asleep around one or two a.m.”

“As long as you’re getting a full night’s sleep, it doesn’t really matter when you’re getting it,” Harvey said. He looked back through the chart. “I did recommend you getting some melatonin, was that helping you?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said. “I take one every night. It helps me fall asleep.”

“Very good,” Harvey said. “And the last question, your mental health.” He looked up again. “You’ve talked about anxiety, possibly some depression. Are those still prevalent?”

Sebastian nodded.

Harvey let out a breath. “I’m just a general practitioner, I’m not a psychiatrist, so I can’t prescribe you anything for mental health,” he said. “I do wish you would at least consider speaking to a therapist.”

Sebastian looked down.

“There’s no shame in talking to someone, Sebastian.” Harvey’s voice was gentle. “I have a therapist. I speak with her twice a month. I take the train to Grampleton, see her in her office, and then come back. I have a little anxiety myself, and it helps to put things into perspective. Sometimes just even being able to talk out loud about what’s worrying you can go a long way.”

Sebastian remained silent.

Harvey exhaled. “Well, I can’t force you, but I do strongly encourage it,” he said. He reached into his desk and pulled a pair of cards out, handing them to Sebastian. “These are a couple of therapy groups. One is in Grampleton, one is in Zuzu City. They’re both very good.”

Sebastian accepted the cards and put them into his pocket without looking at them.

Harvey picked his pen back up. “You said you smoke marijuana to help with the anxiety, correct?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said.

“Do you smoke marijuana recreationally?” Harvey asked.

Sebastian shook his head. “Not since high school,” he said.

“And how many times a month do you do that?” Harvey asked.

“Two or three. Depends,” Sebastian said.

“All right,” Harvey said. “I’m not going to lecture you for that. If it’s helping, and you’re not overindulging, there’s no harm whatsoever. But that’s only treating the symptoms. Ideally, we’d like to get at some of the root of the anxiety. And the depression.”

“I know,” Sebastian mumbled.

“If you’d like, I can call and set up an appointment for you,” Harvey said. “I know sometimes the hardest thing is just making the first call.”

Sebastian shook his head.

Harvey sighed. “Very well,” he said. “But if you change your mind…”

“I’ll let you know,” Sebastian said. “Are we done?”

“I just need to take your blood sample for testing, and then yes, we’re done,” Harvey said. He pulled out a pair of gloves and removed a disposable syringe from the cabinet. After putting on the gloves, he opened the syringe packet and a swab.

“Please hold out your arm,” Harvey said. Sebastian obliged. Harvey took his forearm and turned it over, swabbing at the inside of his forearm. Sebastian could see his veins clearly against the whiteness of his skin. Harvey prepared the syringe and inserted it carefully into his vein. Sebastian felt a slight pinch and then it was as though the syringe was part of him. He watched as his blood began to fill the syringe, red and coursing. It was hard to believe something like that came out of him. His insides felt gray and numb, so seeing anything with such a vibrant color that came from him was startling.

When Sebastian had been young, he had been fascinated with Demetrius’s medical dictionary. He had pored over it for hours, looking at the bits and pieces that went into the human body. He tried feeling on his stomach for his liver, his kidneys, his spleen, all of the gushy bits that went inside of him. Robin had been concerned, but Demetrius had encouraged it.

_“You never know. Maybe he’ll grow up to be a doctor.”_

He hadn’t, obviously. Instead, he grew up to have one more set of useless knowledge. Something rattling around inside of his brain that popped up every once in a blue moon only to fall back and lie dormant and cold. Like the rest of him.

Harvey finished drawing the syringe and withdrew it, placing a piece of gauze and bandage over the slight mark. He busied himself extracting the blood into a series of small vials, capping each in turn and setting them to the side. He disposed of the waste in the biohazard bin and took off his gloves, turning back to Sebastian with a smile.

“All right, that’ll do for another year,” he said. “Now, when you get that prescription in, try to limit your cigarettes to no more than two a day. Nausea is a common side effect, but it should pass in a day or two. If you find yourself getting very dizzy or you have any convulsions, stop taking it immediately and have Maru call me right away. I’ll make a house call to make sure you’re all right.”

“Will do,” Sebastian said. “Thanks.” He stepped off the exam table and started to head for the door. He had almost put his hand on the knob, and then Harvey spoke again.

“Sebastian?”

Sebastian cringed. “Yeah?” he asked without turning around.

“If you don’t feel comfortable talking to a therapist, or to me, you should try to at least speak with someone about what’s making you so anxious,” Harvey said. “Maybe your partner is willing to listen for a bit.”

Sebastian paused, hand on the doorknob. “Maybe,” he said. He turned the knob and pushed out into the clinic. He started walking past the reception desk.

“Hey,” Maru said. He stopped, halfway between the desk and the door and looked back.

“Yeah?” he asked.

With a smirk, she held up a lollipop. “For being a brave patient?” she asked.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I don’t need a sucker for being a brave patient,” he said.

“It’s green apple,” Maru said.

Sebastian paused. With as much dignity as he could muster, he moved to the desk, snatched the lollipop out of her hand and moved back to the door, pushing out into the sunshine.

He unwrapped the plastic around the candy and placed it in his mouth, enjoying the artificial sour apple taste. He’d always liked hard candy, ever since he was a kid. Something about the satisfaction of keeping it in his mouth, rolling it around from side to side, feeling it slowly get smaller and smaller, running his tongue over it and feeling it between his teeth was just so satisfying. With the stick hanging out of his mouth, he moved through the plaza toward the bridge leading across the river.

The sun was out in full force now, and he could already feel his skin getting sticky. He hated sweating. He felt so gross whenever he did. Thankfully, he hardly sweat most of the year. But summer. Fucking summer. If he could, he would do away with summer and just have fall and winter be the only seasons. He liked the cold. He liked how dark the days got, how he could stay inside all the time and nobody would judge him for it. Not like now.

Mom and Demetrius couldn’t understand how he always wanted to stay inside during summer vacation as a kid. He was happy as could be just reading a book or playing video games or watching tv. They always wanted him to get out and play. Told him to go play with Sam or Abby or Alex or Haley or one of the other kids his age in town. _Ugh._ The idea of running around in the sunshine didn’t appeal to him in the slightest, even at that age. And now it was even less appealing.

There was only one reason he’d willingly be out in the heat like this. As he moved over the stone bridge crossing the river, he felt his heart start to race faster. He had been wanting to see Elliott for a long time. He needed to see him, to feel him, to kiss him. He quickly moved down the steps to the beach and scanned the shore.

Vacant. Perfect. If Alex or Haley were here – and when weren’t those two vain things here in the summer? – he would have to play it off, act like he was going to look for coral or shells or something. But now he could go right up to the cabin. His boots stuck a little in the sand as he moved. He brought his hand up and rapped on the door. Again, too loudly.

The signature yelp from inside always made Sebastian smile. He envisioned Elliott hunched over his computer, tapping away madly and barely remembering that the rest of the world existed. He heard the scrape of the chair and the feet padding over to the door.

When the door opened, Sebastian felt like another sun began shining on him. Elliott’s smile warmed him from the inside out. He moved forward and wrapped his arms around Elliott’s torso, resting his face against Elliott’s chest.

“Hello, darling,” Elliott said softly, embracing Sebastian and kissing his forehead. “What a pleasant surprise. I’ve missed you.”

“I miffed oo, too,” Sebastian mumbled around the lollipop.

“Pardon?” Elliott asked.

Sebastian reached for the lollipop and pulled it out. “I missed you, too,” he said, looking up.

Elliott smiled and leaned down, pressing his lips against Sebastian’s. He pulled back and ran his tongue over his lips. “Mmm. Apple,” he said with a slight chuckle. He glanced over his shoulder. “Shall we go in?”

Sebastian slid around Elliott, pulling him inside and closing the door in one motion. As soon as the door closed, he had one hand in Elliott’s hair and was kissing him as deeply as he could. Elliott moaned into Sebastian’s mouth and brought his own hands up, placing them on the sides of Sebastian’s face. The two managed to move together over to the bed, sinking down onto it and savoring the feeling and taste and touch of each other. Each had missed this. Their time apart started to feel more and more pressing.

Sebastian rolled over so he was lying on top of Elliott and let his tongue slide between Elliott’s lips. Their tongues intertwined and Sebastian moaned as he pressed himself against Elliott. He could feel Elliott’s excitement rubbing against his own. He wanted this, so badly. He could feel himself getting excited.

And then Elliott pulled back. “Darling – Sebastian –” From the tone of his voice, Sebastian could tell something was wrong. He opened his eyes.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Your, um… your lolly is stuck in my hair.”

Sebastian looked over to see the remnants of his lollipop entangled in some of Elliott’s locks. Horror spread over his face and he reached to try and untangle it.

“Here, let me –”

“No, don’t grab –”

“I can just –”

“Ow, ow, _ow_!”

Suddenly their eyes locked and the ridiculousness of the situation hit them both. Before they realized it, they were both practically doubled over with laughter, holding onto each other. Sebastian was laughing so hard he could feel tears leaking out of his eyes. It was just so completely absurd. They had clearly been about to have sex, they were just about to start taking each other’s clothes off, and then a stray lollipop completely killed the mood.

When they managed to calm down from their hysterics, Elliott wiped at his eyes and said, “Oh, my. Here, let me cut it out.”

Sebastian suddenly became concerned. “Wait, you’re not going to cut a big chunk out, are you?” he asked.

“Just a little,” Elliott said. He looked at Sebastian and placed a hand on his cheek, kissing him. “Don’t worry, love. Every now and again I get such a vicious tangle the only solution is to cut it.”

“If you’re sure,” Sebastian said, moving to a sitting position. Elliott got up and moved into the bathroom. Sebastian could hear him rummaging in the drawer, then a couple of quiet snips. A few seconds later, Elliott exited the bathroom with the sucker in one hand and a few very long strands of auburn hair around it.

“Somehow I doubt you’ll want this back,” he said dryly.

Sebastian snorted. “No. Not at all, thanks,” he said.

Elliott disposed of the candy in the waste bin and returned to the bed, crawling onto it and motioning for Sebastian to lie down next to him. Sebastian did so and murmured with contentment as he tucked himself into Elliott and felt Elliott’s arms around him.

“I really did miss you,” Sebastian said.

“I know,” Elliott sighed. “I’ve missed you terribly. I’ve been working every day on the book. I keep pushing myself so that it gets done and we can spend more time together. As soon as I get the revisions done…” he let out a long breath. “As soon as they’re done and back to Cynthia, everything will be so much simpler. We can have every day together then.” He began stroking the back of Sebastian’s neck with a whisper-light touch that made Sebastian shiver to feel.

“I’d like that,” Sebastian said quietly.

“I would, too,” Elliott said, kissing his forehead. “Which is why we’ve got to endure this for just a little bit longer. And then they’ll sign me to a contract, and I’ll have money to fix this place up, or build a place of my own.”

Sebastian nuzzled against Elliott’s face and neck. “So you really are going to stay in Pelican Town?” he asked.

“Yes,” Elliott said. “I’ve fallen in love with this town. And the people.” _And you._ He didn’t want to say that last bit out loud just yet. “And I don’t want to leave you. I want to know that you’re close by. That I can feel you next to me, or inside me. That I can kiss you whenever I want.” He tightened his grip on Sebastian. “You drive me absolutely mad with desire, you know. Whenever I think about you, my stomach flutters and my pulse races.”

Sebastian gripped at the back of Elliott’s shirt. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted. “I think about you all day. When I’m working, my mind drifts. When I’m lying in bed, I wish you were with me.” He let out a long, shuddering breath and buried his head against Elliott’s neck. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he murmured.

Elliott moved back to gently stroking Sebastian’s hair with one hand and his back with the other. The feeling of Sebastian against him was so beautiful Elliott almost couldn’t stand it. Sebastian just _fit_ against him. The way his arms rested around Elliott, the way their hips seemed to snug up against each other, the way Sebastian’s head nestled just so in the crook of his neck – everything felt right. It was as though Sebastian was a missing puzzle piece Elliott had never noticed was gone.

For a long while, they lay together, not needing to say anything. The intimacy of lying together was more than enough. They didn’t need to have sex – not now, anyway. They were achieving the same feeling of being together by soaking in each other’s presence.

It was Sebastian who broke the quiet first. “How is the revising going?” he asked.

“Not as slowly or as quickly as it could,” Elliott said. He adjusted his posture slightly to give some relief to the leg that Sebastian was putting most of his weight on. “I’ve gotten a few of the big-ticket items taken care of, and a good number of the smaller ones, too. I think probably another week or two and I should be ready to get it back over to Cynthia.”

“That’s good, right?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes,” Elliott said, though Sebastian could hear the hesitancy in his voice. “Yes, it’s good. I don’t expect that she’ll ask me to go through another round of revision after this.”

“But something’s bothering you,” Sebastian said, moving his head up and resting his chin on Elliott’s chest.

Elliott sighed and looked up at him. “I have to admit, science was never exactly my strongest subject,” he said. “Which is a bit of a problem when writing science fiction. Cynthia pointed out that I’ve got a few… well, contradictory ideas about the way the planet’s ecology works. She said that they don’t make sense when thinking about them together, and she’s right. So now it’s the challenge of figuring out how to put them all together and make sense. Or, better yet, to rewrite them so they’re cohesive.”

“What’s the problems?” Sebastian asked.

“I’ve established that the ocean is the source of all the life on the planet,” Elliott said. “Which is fine, no problem there. There are some deep oceanic lifeforms that are crucial to the planet’s existence and survival that none of the surface dwellers know about, even though they fish for sustenance and the Planetary Collective has extractive mining set up to pull frozen gasses out from beneath the ocean floor.”

“That’s all sounding reasonable,” Sebastian said.

“The problem comes with the lifeforms on the surface,” Elliott admitted. “I’ve got the native Abraxans – that’s the planet, Abraxas – as the dominant species, but there are also some docile animals and megafauna. And they’re all jockeying for position and…” he sighed.

“And… what?” Sebastian asked.

“I think I tried too hard to write as many things as possible that sounded cool, without thinking of the intersections of the actual ecosystem,” Elliott said. He rested his head back on the pillow. “And every time I try to chop it up and make it make sense, I feel like I’m creating a bigger muddle out of things.”

Sebastian moved off of lying atop Elliott to rest next to him and look at his face from directly next to him. “You’ll figure it out,” he said, kissing Elliott’s cheek. “You’re the smartest person I know. You’ll get it.”

Elliott smiled and rolled over, pressing his lips against Sebastian’s. “I’m sure that’s not true,” he said. “The part about me being the smartest person you know, anyway. Maru and Demetrius are both much smarter than me. I will get it, eventually. It’s just taking longer than I want.”

Sebastian paused. Something Elliott said clicked. He felt a rush of discomfort inside. He had an idea. An idea that might make things easier for Elliott, but he really, _really_ didn’t want to have to do the work to set it up. But Elliott really did need the help. So he cleared his throat. “Actually… you know Demetrius has a Master’s in environmental science, right?” he asked.

Elliott’s face brightened. “I didn’t… do you think he’d be willing to go over this with me?” he asked.

“I can ask him,” Sebastian said, already dreading the conversation. He tried to avoid speaking to Demetrius whenever possible. Inevitably what should have been a thirty-second question and answer would get dragged out into fifteen minutes of explanation and exposition. Even Robin admitted that she glazed over when Demetrius got into professor mode and started lecturing about whatever his most recent fascination was. “He can probably tell you exactly how certain things would interact.”

Elliott placed his hands on Sebastian’s face and kissed him a few times in succession. “Darling, you are my saving grace,” he said, giving Sebastian a look of such gratitude and delight it made Sebastian feel lightheaded. “I don’t know what I would do without you. Rot away in this shack, certainly. I’d die an old, lonely hermit by the sea if you weren’t here.”

“You’re not old,” Sebastian murmured. The usual combination of discomfort and pleasure he got when Elliott laid compliments on him was starting to course through him. He had no idea how to react to Elliott’s eloquence and the compliments that rolled off of his tongue like honey onto toast. They had the same effect on him that honey would – they stuck to him and made him feel sticky and sweet and warm and nice. And vaguely uncomfortable.

_He’s going to realize how I am. And then he won’t want to be with me._

“I can… I can talk to him tonight,” Sebastian said, so he wouldn’t have to chase that thought too far. “Maybe you two can meet at the saloon on Friday or something?”

“Oh, no, Friday is the night he and your mother have for dancing, I wouldn’t dream of interrupting that,” Elliott said. “They’re quite good, by the way. It’s a treat to watch them on the floor.”

“That’s how they met,” Sebastian said.

“At a club?” Elliott asked.

“No, ballroom,” Sebastian said. “Ballroom dancing lessons.” Elliott sat up and looked down at him.

“All right, I must hear this story,” he said.

Sebastian groaned and sat up. “It’s not much of a story,” he said. “My dad hated dancing, so when they got divorced, mom said that one of the things she was going to do for herself was really learn how to dance. My aunt paid for one of those sets of ballroom lessons and Demetrius was there, too. I guess he always wanted to learn formal dancing. And they got paired up and hit it off and… they got hitched a year later.” He shrugged. “That’s the story.”

“That’s absolutely charming,” Elliott said, chuckling. “My parents were set up on a blind date. And it went dreadfully. Dad showed up ten minutes late and mum was hopping mad. Turns out he’d gotten delayed because there was a colossal backup due to a cheese truck overturning. Mum didn’t believe a word he said, but there was a news story on the television and he managed to point it out to her. And she was so embarrassed she’d gotten cross that she was willing to give him a chance. Lucky for me.”

“And for me,” Sebastian said, moving closer to Elliott. Elliott’s eyes softened and he wrapped his arms around Sebastian once more, letting out a content sigh.

“I can hardly believe how important you’ve become to me,” he murmured into Sebastian’s ear. “When I think about how we hardly spoke or even noticed each other for so long, it makes me so angry at myself. To know you were here right under my nose the whole time.” He kissed Sebastian’s temple. “I can hardly stand to think about it.”

Sebastian snuggled against Elliott. “That’s more my fault than yours,” he said. “I don’t… I don’t open up to people easy. You know that. I almost pushed you away that night. If you hadn’t…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. If Elliott hadn’t insisted, hadn’t brought him inside, hadn’t been so kind. He wouldn’t have felt anything the likes of which he was feeling now. How easily this all could have not been.

Elliott lifted his chin and kissed him. “But I did,” he said. He smiled and Sebastian found himself returning it. “Tell you what,” he said, stretching out a bit. “I think it is supposed to rain on Saturday of this week, if I remember the weather correctly. Why don’t we plan for another session of Solarian, if we can get everyone together? And then perhaps after, I might speak with Demetrius about the book?”

Sebastian’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yeah! That’d be awesome,” he said. “I’ll make sure mom makes a great casserole. And that you actually eat something at the game table this time.”

Elliott laughed. “That sounds like a plan,” he said. “I’ll bring my notes. And my CD, so I can finally get that autograph from you.”

Sebastian felt warm all over. “I really like when you come to my house,” he said, suddenly feeling juvenile. Elliott’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it widened.

“I like it, too,” he said softly. “Your mother built the whole house herself, didn’t she?”

“From the ground up,” Sebastian said. “She’s really good at what she does.”

“I can tell,” Elliott said. “As much as I love the sea, I think I might have had my fill of living there. Maybe I’ll ask her to build me a home up in the mountains. Not too far from you.” He began stroking Sebastian’s face again. “So that way we can see each other whenever we want.”

Sebastian’s heart pounded in his chest. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this week’s chapter felt kind of like a warm hug. It’s so nice to have Sebastian and Elliott just really happy together and with each other. Also, Maru is absolutely the type of person to know her brother’s favorite lollipop flavor and have it handy just so she could smirk at him for taking it.
> 
> Next week, more Solarian Chronicles! Will there be awkward sexual tension at the table? (Probably) Will Becca cause Elliott to break character? (Almost certainly) Summer’s here, and things are getting hot in Pelican Town in more ways than one. Thank you all so very much for reading and leaving so many comments and kudos. I’ve said it before, but I am absolutely blown away at the support for this story, and I’m so happy that you’re enjoying it this much. See you next week, guys!


	12. Rattling Bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I listened to while writing this chapter was “Nancy the Tavern Wench” by Alestorm, found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=53s8WaScBJQ).

“To awaken quite alone in a strange town is one of the pleasantest sensations in the world. You are surrounded by adventure.”  
– Freya Stark

Sebastian wasn’t able to tear himself from Elliott for hours. Lying on Elliott’s bed, in his arms, hearing his voice softly speaking sweet, gentle promises to him, made him feel wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and gentleness. The cabin seemed like it was barely holding together, but being inside, with Elliott, away from the rest of the world, was a safe space. Sebastian felt like he could finally relax when he was there.

But eventually he had to go. Mom would get worried if he was out too late. She’d ask Maru if he’d been to the doctor. She might start calling. And the idea of there being an intrusion on this place that he shared with Elliott was more than Sebastian could bear.

He’d stolen a few kisses from Elliott before they got up from the bed and Elliott walked him to the door. And then Elliott had done something Sebastian hadn’t expected. He’d picked him up, pressed him against the door, and kissed him, deeply. Sebastian had moaned into Elliott’s mouth, brought his arms around Elliott’s back and his legs around his waist, feeling completely secure, like Elliott was claiming him as his own.

When they had finally parted from each other, Elliott had given him one final, long, deep kiss, and whispered into his ear, “See you Saturday.” The thought filled Sebastian with a shuddering desire.

Walking up the last big of the mountain incline, seeing his house appear as it suddenly did when the path leveled, Sebastian felt a flock of butterflies inside of him. He was going to have Elliott over, for the first time since they had gotten together. He had asked Elliott to give him time to tell mom and Sam and Abby what was going on, and like the coward he was, he hadn’t even begun to say anything to any of them. He didn’t know how he was going to be able to keep his eyes and his hands and his lips off of Elliott. The butterflies fluttered in his stomach.

When he pulled the door open, he could hear the tv playing. No doubt mom and Demetrius had had dinner already. The days Maru worked were the few days nobody insisted on everybody coming to dinner at the same time. There was just food prepared and then stored in the fridge to heat up whenever anyone was hungry. Sebastian moved through into the kitchen, opening the fridge and scanning for any sign of food.

It looked like there was parsnip casserole, probably using up the last of the parsnips from spring. Not his favorite, he always found parsnips kind of bland, but it would do. He opened the container and moved to the microwave, placing it inside.

“Sebby, that you?” The voice came from the hall. _Shit._ Mom was going to want to ask him about his day.

“Yeah,” he called back, pressing a button to start reheating the casserole. He heard feet moving down the hall and braced himself for the onslaught of questions.

“How was your appointment with Dr. Harvey?” Robin asked as she moved into the kitchen.

“Fine,” he said. He kept his eyes on the rotating container in the microwave. “He, um – I got a prescription.”

Robin paused in the midst of pulling a bottle of juice out of the refrigerator. She frowned. “What for? You aren’t sick, are you?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “It’s… it’s to help cut down on my smoking.”

Robin’s face lit up. “Oh – I’m so glad to hear that,” she said, closing the door. “You’re thinking about quitting?”

“Maybe,” he said, feeling the same slimy noncommittal sensation weave around him. _Yes. Yes, you are. Why is it so fucking hard to just say that?_ “I, um… I figured even if I just don’t do it as much, it’s good for me.”

Robin placed a strong hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. “That really makes me happy, Sebby,” she said. He could see her smile in the reflection of the microwave door. “If I can help with anything, please tell me.”

Sebastian nodded, once. “Yeah, sure,” he said. The microwave beeped and he opened it, reaching inside to pull out the container of casserole. His stomach gurgled. He hadn’t eaten anything since he’d had the lollipop, and that was hours ago. He pulled a fork out of the silverware drawer and began stirring the casserole, trying to disperse the heat from the steaming hot edges into the still-chilled middle of the meal.

Robin poured a glass of orange juice for herself, then looked up at Sebastian. “Do you want some juice with that?” she asked.

“Yeah, sure, that sounds good,” Sebastian said, moving to sit down at the table. Robin pulled an extra glass from the cabinet and poured from the carafe. She brought it to the table and placed it in front of him, sitting down next to him.

“Thanks,” Sebastian said, picking up a forkful of casserole and blowing on it to relieve some of the heat. He put it in his mouth and began chewing. It wasn’t bad. Something about it was better than usual. He swallowed and looked to Robin. “It’s good. Did you do something different this time?” he asked.

“Bought some of Becca’s goat cheese,” she said. “You know normally I just pick up whatever’s at Pierre’s, but it melts really well. I think I’ll keep using goat cheese when I make this.”

“I like it,” Sebastian said. He took another bite of casserole.

“I’m glad,” Robin said. They sat in silence for a moment as Sebastian ate and Robin took a few sips of juice. She asked, “Did you do anything else today? Stop by Sam’s or anything?”

Sebastian’s stomach tightened. He paused in chewing for a moment, then swallowed. “I ran into Elliott,” he said. “We talked about his book for a bit.”

“How’s that going?” Robin asked.

“Pretty good,” Sebastian said. “Although…” Now or never. He looked up at her. “Is Demetrius busy?”

Robin blinked. Sebastian knew why. He and Demetrius had done their best to avoid each other, ever since Sebastian had hit puberty and their personalities started mixing like oil and water. Demetrius felt like he should spend more time with the family. Sebastian hated the way Demetrius lectured. Demetrius objected to Sebastian smoking and spending all his time in his room. Sebastian resented Demetrius for how much he favored Maru. Sebastian couldn’t remember the last time he willingly spent more time than a meal or a drive in his stepfather’s presence.

“No, he’s –” Robin looked back in the direction of the family room. “We were just watching TV. Nothing but reruns. Why?”

Sebastian swallowed a bite of casserole, trying to ignore the sudden heat in his stomach. “Could I… talk to him?”

Robin got up. “Sure,” she said. The even tone of her voice was belied by how quickly she moved from the table. Sebastian sat, breathing quietly and evenly. He didn’t hate Demetrius. He didn’t even _dislike_ him, really, it was just – it was always so hard for them to get along. Ever since Sebastian and Maru started fighting a lot when he was a teenager, Demetrius always took Maru’s side. It made Sebastian angry. He and Demetrius had had a few blowup fights when he was in high school, which usually ended with mom intervening and sending one or both of them to their rooms. She’d come in later and try talking to him.

 _I wish you two would make more of an effort to get along._ Or _I hate it that you fight all the time._ Or _Can’t you please just try to be civil? When you roll your eyes or snap at Demetrius, it upsets him._

He knew she probably said something similar to Demetrius, but it always felt like she took his stepfather’s side. And since Demetrius always took Maru’s side, it always felt like it was the three of them united against him. He hated the feeling. He hated feeling like an outcast in his own house. That was when he’d started staying in his room almost all of the time. If he and Maru didn’t run into each other, and he and Demetrius didn’t run into each other, he wouldn’t fight with either of them. He’d just be quiet and out of the way. And alone. And then everybody would be happy.

Sebastian looked up as Demetrius stepped into the kitchen, Robin behind him. Demetrius looked as surprised as Robin had that Sebastian had requested to talk to him. “What’s up, Seb?” he asked cautiously, taking a seat at the table. Robin moved back to where she was sitting and sipped at her juice, looking back and forth between them like she was at a tennis match.

Sebastian swallowed his bite of casserole and took a drink of juice to buy himself time to form the words. “I was, um,” he began. He took in a breath. _Focus, you idiot. Elliott needs this._ He swallowed. When he began again, he spoke slowly, trying to think about every word before it came out of his mouth. “I talked with Elliott today and he’s… he’s having trouble with figuring out the biology of the world for his book. And I wanted to know if he could talk to you and if you might help him try to figure out how to fit it together?”

He could see the quick glance mom and Demetrius exchanged. Whatever either of them was expecting, that hadn’t been it. When Demetrius looked back, he managed a smile.

“Well… sure,” he said, seeming to relax. “Sure, I’d be happy to. Do you want to give me his number and I can call him?”

“He’s, uh –” Sebastian began scrambling for his words again. “I was actually going to ask if we could play Solarian here again on Saturday. And if he was here, maybe the two of you could talk after our game?”

Demetrius nodded. “Saturday would work,” he said, considering. “That’s – no, it’s supposed to rain, I won’t be going out. No, that would be fine.” His smile widened. “That actually sounds like a fun problem to figure out.”

“Great,” Sebastian said. “Great, thanks. I’ll tell him.”

“Sounds good,” Demetrius said. They were quiet for a long moment. Demetrius cleared his throat. “Was, er – was that it?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said. “Yeah, that was it.”

“Okay,” Demetrius said. He slowly got up and pushed in his chair. “I’ll just…” he paused and then began walking to the door.

Robin watched her husband leave, then looked back to Sebastian. “I’m glad,” she began, then tapered off. She pressed her lips together. “That was nice of you to ask him that, Sebastian,” she said.

“It’s for Elliott, not me,” Sebastian mumbled, looking down into the casserole.

“Still,” Robin said. “I know that meant a lot to Demetrius that you thought of him for helping Elliott out.” She smiled, even though he was still looking down. “Is there anything special you’d like me to make for dinner Saturday?”

Sebastian thought. He didn’t want to be a pain, but he knew how much Elliott enjoyed mom’s cooking. _What would he like?_ He thought back to what Elliott had eaten in Zuzu City. _Something fresh, something summery._

“How about, um… maybe your lemon pesto chicken?” he asked, looking up. “You know, the one with the tomato cucumber salad?”

“Oh, that’s a good meal for this time of year,” Robin said, leaning back and considering. “I think I have everything for that – maybe I can leave a little early for the saloon tomorrow and pick up some of the veggies from Pierre’s.” She smiled at him. “I’m glad you’re having your friends over again. You all seemed to have so much fun last time.”

Sebastian managed a smile. “Yeah,” he said. His chest grew warm thinking of the moments he and Elliott shared before and after the game, back when he was crushing on Elliott so hard and felt like every second he shared with him was perfect and precious. “Yeah, we did.”

Robin got up from the table and rinsed out her glass in the sink. “All right, I’m going to go back in there,” she said. “Let me know if you need anything else.” She started to walk toward the family room.

Sebastian paused, mid-bite. He swallowed quickly and said, “Hey, mom?”

Robin slowed and turned. “Yes?” she asked.

“I have to go to Pierre’s to get snacks anyway,” Sebastian said. “I can get the vegetables when I go. Or anything else, if you need.”

Robin smiled. “That would be nice,” she said. “I’ll put a list together. You can take the truck if you want. I know coming back up the hill with bags isn’t easy. Thank you, Sebby.”

Sebastian managed to return her smile. “S’okay,” he said.

Robin disappeared back down the hallway and Sebastian let out a breath. He got up, bringing the now-empty dish to the sink and starting to rinse it out. He would have to get some snacks, and some sparkling waters. Maybe some soda. Not Joja Cola. Pierre didn’t carry that, and Sam wouldn’t be able to drink an entire case. Everybody else found the stuff disgusting.

Sebastian finished cleaning out the dish and washing his fork and glass. He stacked them into the dishwasher – he didn’t understand why they had to clean the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher, but whatever – and closed it, then turned around, leaning against the sink. He let out a long breath.

_Fuck. I’ve got to clean my room again._

He let out a quiet groan and moved to the hall closet, opening and pulling out the vacuum cleaner.

~~~

Summer storms in Pelican Town were very different than any other time of the year. The gentle rains of spring and autumn were hardly anything compared to the pounding, almost violent rain Elliott tried to shield himself against as he walked up the incline from town to the mountains. He kept his bag close against his chest, not wanting his book or the character sheets to get wet, but he could feel how his trousers and overcoat were getting soaked through.

_Maybe next time I can ask Sebastian for a ride. Or plan for a day where it isn’t raining._

At least it was a warm rain. In fact, everything was warm. The ground was so hot that the precipitation hitting it almost seemed to be letting off steam. June was a very hot month in Ferngill, and July and August would be hotter yet. Though the humidity helped his skin, Elliott did hate how steamy and sticky everything was. Summer was much milder back in Pangolais, especially near the sea, where he and his family lived. Even when in town, he could feel the refreshing breezes that would waft through and give some relief from the higher temperatures.

Not in Pelican Town, though. The sea breeze wasn’t enough to give relief from the ceaseless heat, unless he was actually at the beach. Most days, he would leave his windows open to get some relief – otherwise, his cabin would feel like the inside of a pressure cooker.

Elliott quickened his pace as he saw Sebastian’s house. _I might have to trouble him for a pair of pants to borrow. How embarrassing._ He reached the door and stepped inside, shaking his umbrella outside of the door before closing it behind him.

“Robin, we really have to stop meeting like this,” he said, turning to the carpenter.

Robin chuckled and came around the counter. “You’re soaked, you poor thing,” she said. “Stay there, let me get you a towel. I’ll tell Sebby you’re here.” She ducked around the doorway and he heard her call down the stairs. The door opened and Sebastian’s steps quickly sounded coming upstairs.

The grin on his face faded as he saw how wet Elliott was. A look – guilt? Regret? – followed and he moved closer. “Yoba, you’re soaking,” he said. “I’ll get –”

“Your mother’s already grabbing me a towel,” Elliott said, smiling. He handed over his bag to Sebastian. “If you wouldn’t mind holding that, though, I don’t want it to get too wet.” Sebastian took it quickly, looking up at Elliott.

“I should have come to pick you up,” he said. “I’ll – you can stay the night, it’s going to be raining like this until morning.”

“I… might take you up on that this time,” Elliott conceded. He turned and smiled as Robin came in with a large towel, handing it to him.

“There you go,” she said. “I can give you some spare clothes of Demetrius’s to wear if you want to throw those in the dryer.”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Elliott said. “I don’t want to drip all over everything, but is there a restroom where I might change?”

“Down the hall, to the left,” Robin said, pointing. “I’ll leave some clothes in there for you and then Sebastian can get them in the dryer for you.”

“You’re very kind,” Elliott said, starting to towel himself off as she moved back into the house. He looked over to Sebastian with a small smile on his face.

“What’s that look for?” Sebastian asked.

“This is something of a reversal of the day we really met,” Elliott said. Sebastian felt his heart flip. He took a quick look over his shoulder and then leaned up, pressing his lips against Elliott’s in a soft, quiet peck. Elliott returned the kiss and his smile widened as Sebastian pulled back, cheeks a little pinker than before.

“I’ll, um, I’ll get this downstairs. Just come down whenever you change,” Sebastian said, walking backward a few steps. He bumped into one of Robin’s carpentry tables and swore under his breath, turning and hurrying for the stairs.

Elliott chuckled and finished getting the worst of the wet off of himself. He kicked his shoes off and removed his socks, drying his feet and moving through the house toward the bathroom. Robin was just ducking out and she gave him a smile, gesturing.

“All yours,” she said.

“Thank you so much, I truly appreciate it,” Elliott said, stepping inside. He closed the door behind him and looked at the folded stack of clothes. Robin was so nice. He really couldn’t imagine –

 _Wait a moment._ He looked at the print on the t-shirt Robin had folded and placed on the counter and picked it up, reading it. A snort escaped him and he grinned. _Oh, my._ He was going to relish the look on Sebastian’s face when he saw this.

Elliott changed as quickly as he was able, wringing out his wet clothing into the tub and folding it up as best he could. He was grateful for the warm and comfortable clothes – a t-shirt, some sweatpants, socks. Even so, the shirt didn’t quite come as far down on his arms as he would have liked. He tugged at the sleeves a bit. There wasn’t much of the red patches showing. They stopped by his elbows and got less prominent the further away from his chest they were, but there was still a little bit of red curling around one of his arms. He sighed. He couldn’t be picky.

Elliott carried his stack of clothes through the house and down the stairs carefully, stepping into Sebastian’s room. Sebastian was waiting for him and reached out his hands to take the clothes.

“I’ll get these into –” Sebastian began, and then stopped, staring at Elliott’s t-shirt.

Elliott proudly pulled the shirt sides away, showing off the BIOLOGISTS DO IT IN THE FIELD print. “Does this color bring out my eyes?” he asked.

Sebastian closed his eyes and squinted them together slightly. “I’ll be right back,” he said as evenly as possible, opening his eyes as he moved to the stairs.

Elliott chuckled and moved over to the table, taking a seat on one of the beanbags. It felt even comfier than it had last time, no doubt because he was wearing much more comfortable clothing than his usual trousers, dress shirt, and overcoat. He let out a sigh as he sank into the feeling. _I could get used to this._ He rarely wore anything terribly comfortable unless he was dressed for bed. His skin felt good without the crispness and starch of the collar and cuffs and nicer materials pressed against it. And yet, every time he dressed like this, he felt a slight pang in his chest. Some part of him had internalized the message he’d gotten in school, about always dressing his best, always putting on the best image he could. And it stung when he wasn’t able to do that.

 _You really are a hopeless snob._ Elliott sighed. He needed to speak with Harvey about ordering that prescription. He could at least start it now and get some relief for his skin. He didn’t know what his pay would be when September rolled around, but he would have to have at least some to spare to keep it up. _I should ask him or Maru about getting health insurance._ That had to be first. First the health insurance, then the prescription. Yoba, there were so many things to do.

He looked up as he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Sebastian stepped through the door, closed it and faster than Elliott could blink, he moved over to the beanbag, sat down facing Elliott with his legs on either side of Elliott’s lap and had his arms around Elliott, kissing him deeply. Elliott moaned and leaned up into the kiss, embracing Sebastian as well. It had only been a few days since they had seen each other, but he had craved this. The night before, he had masturbated slowly, letting out soft moans, whimpers, desperate gasps for Sebastian. As he climaxed, he had cried Sebastian’s name. Afterward, he felt warmth through his chest instead of the hollow emptiness that had been there before he and Sebastian had slept together and he had thought of Sebastian while stroking himself.

Sebastian was moving on his lap just enough for Elliott to react. He pulled away, whispering, “Sebastian, I’m wearing sweatpants. I’m going to show.”

“Then show,” Sebastian whispered before diving back into kissing Elliott. Elliott groaned with desire into Sebastian’s mouth. They had some time. Time before the others would be here. He had purposely come over early so that he could see Sebastian, so they could spend time with one another and soak up each other’s presence. Elliott tangled his fingers in Sebastian’s raven hair and let himself sink back into the beanbag.

He could have stayed here like this forever. If Sebastian would have let him, Elliott would never stop kissing him. He loved the other intimate things they did, the sex was amazing, but somehow it was kissing Sebastian that Elliott enjoyed the most. The way Sebastian threw himself into it, moaning, rubbing his body against Elliott’s, running his hands wherever he could put them, that was what made Elliott’s veins feel afire.

Sebastian found himself unable to stop kissing Elliott. The feel of Elliott’s soft lips against his own made him whimper and moan into Elliott’s mouth. His blood coursed through him, his heart pounding as he indulged in Elliott. They had never done this at his house before. The risk was thrilling and terrifying all at once, but even the fear of being seen wasn’t enough to pull Sebastian away.

It took a few minutes for the two to finally manage to stop kissing each other so deeply and they settled into an embrace, Elliott leaning back in the beanbag and Sebastian straddling his lap, leaning forward against his chest. 

Elliott softly kissed Sebastian’s forehead. “I could stay here forever,” he murmured quietly. Sebastian let out a soft noise of agreement. “You feel so good. Yoba, you fit so perfectly against me.”

“I just want to lie here with you,” Sebastian replied, closing his eyes and nuzzling against Elliott. “I could just…” _die here._ He didn’t want to say the words aloud, but if he died right now, he would feel like his life was worth it. It was worth it even for this small, intense period of happiness that had come into his life and made him feel like everything was beautiful and good and right.

“I know, darling,” Elliott said quietly, stroking the back of his head. “I know.” Time fell into meaninglessness. It was as though the rest of Sebastian’s life spread out before him, lying in Elliott’s arms, holding him close.

And then he remembered something. Something important. He opened his eyes and looked up at Elliott. He smiled at him. “I have something for you,” he said.

“Oh?” Elliott asked, brightening. “I love presents.”

Sebastian chuckled and reached down into one of the bags near the table. He pulled out a small gold box and handed it to Elliott. “For you,” he said, suddenly feeling shy.

Elliott looked down and his smile softened. “Chocolates?” he said, taking the box. “You shouldn’t have, but I’m glad you did. Thank you, darling.” He placed his free hand behind Sebastian’s neck and leaned up, kissing Sebastian once more. He eagerly removed the plastic from the outside, opening the box and letting out an approving sound. “They certainly look delicious,” he said.

“Have one,” Sebastian said.

Elliott ran his fingers over the tops of the bonbons. They varied slightly in shape and the color of the chocolate. He settled on a heart-shaped dark chocolate confection and pulled it out. Instead of bringing it to himself, he reached up toward Sebastian’s mouth. Sebastian felt his heart pound. He parted his lips and Elliott gently placed the candy inside. Sebastian closed his lips, taking in the bonbon but also leaving the tip of Elliott’s pointer finger inside. The richness of the chocolate made his mouth water as it started to melt, and he brought his hand up, encircling Elliott’s wrist and holding it there as he gently suckled on his fingertip.

Elliott shivered with desire, partly from the sensation and partly from watching the look of pleasure on Sebastian’s face. _You definitely have an oral fixation, my darling._ It wasn’t a surprise. Sebastian smoked, he loved eating good food. He seemed to gain more pleasure from performing oral sex on Elliott than he did from having it done to him, and the way he suckled so sensually on Elliott’s finger made Elliott want to tear all their clothes off and have his way with Sebastian right here and now.

The heat of Sebastian’s mouth finally made enough of the chocolate melt to where he knew he would have to bite into it and he reluctantly removed Elliott’s finger. He bit down and the fruit-flavored cream – cherry? Raspberry? It was hard to tell – filled his mouth. He chewed slowly, keeping his eyes on Elliott all the while, then swallowed.

“Delicious,” he said, smiling.

“You _siren_ ,” Elliott said, leaning up and kissing Sebastian again. He could taste chocolate on Sebastian’s lips, and murmured into them, “I don’t know how you make me want you this badly just from the simplest gestures. That was so… so very erotic.”

Sebastian moaned and allowed himself to fall into the experience of kissing Elliott again. Then he pulled back and reached in the box, pulling a milk chocolate-enrobed candy out. “Your turn,” he said, bringing the bonbon to Elliott’s lips.

Elliott eagerly accepted the offering and let out a soft moan as Sebastian left his finger on Elliott’s tongue. He closed his eyes and his lips, taking in the dual flavors of chocolate and skin. Sebastian began stroking his cheek with his free hand and Elliott luxuriated in the sensations. _We will have to do this when it’s just the two of us._ Elliott hadn’t before introduced food into the bedroom, but with how Sebastian was reacting – Yoba, how _he_ was reacting – he had the feeling this wasn’t going to be the last of it.

Sebastian slowly removed his finger, allowing Elliott to gently chew. The taste of the mocha cream filled his mouth and he made a noise of satisfaction. He opened his eyes to see Sebastian looking down at him with an expression of such adoration that it almost made his heart break. He swallowed the candy and leaned up, kissing Sebastian yet again. The desire and need between them was hot and palpable, so intense Elliott almost felt he could grab onto it and wrap it around them both.

And then they both heard footsteps on the stairs and they quickly parted, Sebastian moving into one of the other beanbag chairs and Elliott placing the lid back on the box and setting it to his side. At the last moment, he reached into his sweatpants and adjusted himself, tucking his excitement into the waistband so it wasn’t obvious.

“I’m here, you dorks! You better not be shooting up smack without me!” Becca’s voice carried and made Elliott laugh. Sebastian rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep the smile from his face. Becca entered, making a beeline to the table. “Okay, where’s the cookies?” she asked, quickly taking a seat.

“What makes you think I even got cookies this time?” Sebastian asked, trying to sound more annoyed than he was. “Maybe I was so offended that I made sure there would never be any cookies in this house ever again.”

Becca turned her light brown eyes in his direction. She clutched at her chest, then the table, and made an intense show of dying dramatically, gasping and choking and wailing before she collapsed to the floor.

“Dead forever,” she announced, tossing one arm to the side.

Sebastian let out a noise of annoyance through his nose, shaking his head and trying to keep the smile from his face. He reached into a shopping bag and pulled a box of cookies out, tossing them so they landed next to Becca. The farmer grinned, sat up and opened the box, reaching in to pull one out. She bit into it and began chewing, then a look of disdain crossed her face. She glanced across to Sebastian and said a single word with such venom Elliott was amazed the paint on the walls didn’t start peeling.

_“Raisins.”_

“You didn’t say what kind of cookies,” Sebastian said, now unable to keep the grin from his face.

“You’ve got a year and a day to live, Larsson,” Becca said, shaking the box in his direction. Sebastian pulled out another box of cookies and Becca squealed with delight, holding out her hand. “Gimme gimme gimme,” she said. Sebastian handed the chocolate chip cookies over and Becca tore into the package, pulling out a cookie and biting into it, letting out a sigh of satisfaction.

“I don’t mind raisins. I’ll take that one,” Elliott said. Becca handed the oatmeal raisin cookie over, letting out a shudder as she did.

“That’s why you’re my favorite,” Becca said to Elliott.

“I got you cookies and I’m not your favorite?” Sebastian griped.

“You got me _bastard_ cookies,” Becca said, affixing a glare on Sebastian. “You tricked me. You are cruel and vicious and hateful.”

Sebastian was about to respond but was interrupted by Maru entering and greeting everyone. She moved to the table, sitting where she had before. As she took her seat, she looked to Elliott and did a double take. “Isn’t that my dad’s shirt?” she asked.

“You caught me,” Elliott said gravely, placing a hand to his chest. “I’m sorry, Maru. I’ve broken up your parents’ marriage by having a scandalous affair with your father.”

Maru shrugged. “Oh, well. They had a good run,” she said, reaching over to pull a cookie out of the package Becca was holding.

“I’m glad you’re taking it well,” Elliott said. “We’re thinking of adopting. How would you and Sebastian like to have a little brother or sister?”

Maru shook her head. “You can’t improve on this,” she said, gesturing to herself. “Best not to even try.”

Sebastian looked over at Becca. “I hate to say it, but you’re clearly the sanest person in my room today,” he said. Becca grinned.

One last pair of shoes sounded down the stairs as Sam came wandering in, typing a message on his phone. He finished sending the message and waved, taking the last seat. “Hey, guys,” he said. “Sorry I’m late. Dad had me helping mom out with the dishes before I left.”

“How’s –” Sebastian caught himself, then realized the word was already out. He might as well ask. “How’s your dad doing?”

Sam shrugged. “Some days are better than others,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “Every once in a while, he has to spend the day in bed. But most days he’s okay at least.”

Sebastian felt a slight gnawing in his stomach. He hated the idea of Mr. Fischer going through such a rough time. And he hated that he didn’t know how he could help. He wished he knew what he could do. What he could say. He wanted Mr. Fischer to be okay again. He wanted to see that wide smile, the one that Kent always got when he would come over.

_“Hey, Seb. Good to see you, buddy.”_

He could hardly imagine the shell of the man Mr. Fischer had become saying that to him now. He swallowed and tried to give a smile, but Sam was already looking to Elliott.

“So, are we picking up where we left off?” he asked.

“Just about,” Elliott said. “Before we get started, we need to get you up to your next levels.” He began passing the character sheets out and Sebastian looked down at Therai’s sheet. “As you play, you’ll get more powerful. Now that you’re at your second level, you have access to some more abilities, some better grasp of skills that you can roll for, and a few other things.”

“If this is going to take as long as character creation, I’m going to need at least four more boxes of cookies,” Becca said, digging back inside the container.

Elliott chuckled. “Not hardly,” he said, cracking the book open. “It’s only going to take a couple minutes for each of you. Who wants to go first?”

As he did with the character creation, Elliott guided each of the players through upgrading their characters to the next levels. Becca was eager to give Lyra some new spells to sling, Maru was relieved to see Helga’s healing abilities increase, Sam picked out a new fighting move for Darvin, and Sebastian took his time selecting increases in Therai’s stats, wanting to give himself as much of a boost as he could. Elliott was patient as always, carefully explaining what everything meant and showing him where to record things on his sheet.

When the pencils were down and Elliott had passed out the sets of dice – the same as before, red for Becca, green for Sam, blue for Maru, orange for Sebastian, purple for himself – he settled in and smiled at his players.

“All right,” he said. “Is everyone ready?”

“O captain, my captain,” Becca said, sitting up in her beanbag and saluting with half a cookie. She brought the cookie to her mouth, biting it with gusto.

Elliott gave Becca an askew glance, but cleared his throat and began. “Bell’s Keep is quiet this morning,” he said. “The sort of quiet that doesn’t cause suspicion, the dearth of activity and careful shuffling between buildings that lets you know something is up. This is just the quiet of a mid-spring morning, after the early morning markets have closed but before the shops start letting their workers go for lunch.”

~~~

_It’s been a few days since you retrieved the map from Malandra’s Shop of Wonders and encountered such resistance among the builder’s guild. The feast day of Saint Anoushka went off mostly without a hitch, and each of you went to bed dreaming of the magnificent roast boar that your landlady put together. As much as you were banged and bruised in your fight, you have to admit getting those mushrooms made it all worth it._

_It is a peaceful morning in the Lazy Cock. Breakfast was served about half an hour ago – eggs and sausages and potatoes, a hearty breakfast with Nefi Frothelthimble’s usual skill at cookery. There are a few other patrons in the gathering room of the inn, and you’re all in the process of finishing up your meal. In spite of the quiet morning and the delicious meal you’ve all just enjoyed, something is bothering each of you. What is this map you’ve secured leading toward? What could possibly be important enough that the builder’s guild would have killed each of you just to ensure that nobody else knew of its existence? And just what was Malandra hoping to achieve by sending you directly to them?_

_You don’t know the answers. But you certainly won’t find them by staying where you are. So, let’s start by answering this question: who among you actually has the map in his or her possession?_

~~~

“I think I did,” Sebastian said, checking his sheet. “Yeah, I wrote it down. Here.” He showed his sheet to Elliott.

“Wait, are we actually trusting the tiefling rogue to hold onto the treasure map?” Maru asked.

Sebastian turned to Maru, looking as offended as he could manage. “Wow. Racist!” he said. Maru laughed.

“All right, Therai,” Elliott said. “We’ll say that you’re the one who has the map on his person. You’re the one who has probably had the most opportunity to study it. So I would like for you to make me an observation roll to see what you’ve picked up in looking at it.”

Sebastian picked up his twenty-sided die and rolled. “Okay, twelve, and I’ve got… four here, so – sixteen,” he said, looking up.

“Sixteen, very good,” Elliott said. “Therai, it’s something that you’ve really had to think about, because you’ve been to Bell’s Keep before, and the map doesn’t really look like the city. Or at the very least, it’s not the entirety of the city. But while you are eating, something occurs to you. You might have been looking at the map in the wrong way.”

Elliott reached into his folder of documents and pulled out what looked like an ancient map. The edges were charred, the paper brown and crinkled, and carefully drawn on it was a series of interconnected buildings and streets. Elliott placed the map in the center of the table and Sebastian found himself staring at it.

“Whoa. Did you make that?” Sam asked, turning his head to read the small words written on it. “How? That looks crazy real.”

Elliott smiled with pleasure. “Soaking paper in tea and letting it dry makes the parchment appearance. Then I used a candle around the edges to discolor it,” he said. “It started as just a regular piece of computer printer paper.” Sebastian looked up. He could tell Elliott was pleased at their reaction to the map.

 _He’s amazing._ It wasn’t the first time he had thought it. Not even the first time he had thought it while they were playing Solarian Chronicles. But the care and attention to detail Elliott brought to everything, not just this game, not just when they were together, every single thing he did – Sebastian couldn’t believe how long it had taken him to notice.

Over the next couple of hours, Elliott narrated their exploration of Bell’s Keep, allowing Therai to take the lead on plotting out where to go with the map. Sebastian was pleased at how much he was able to contribute, especially because the last time, he had felt as though Therai wasn’t doing as much as the others. With his ability to get into and out of tight places, and his knowledge of the ins and outs of the city, Therai was proving to be a real asset. He was the one who figured out that the shipbuilder’s warehouse was one of the key parts of the map, the way it jutted out into the bay just so, just like the map showed. 

From there, the group was able to follow the path down to a gate that led into a series of tunnels under the city, which seemed to be part of the intersections that were outlined on the map. It was there that they ran into further trouble – large, vicious creatures, half man and half rat, who attacked on sight. Elliott squinched his nose and spoke in a hissing, raspy voice as the rat creatures, tensing his fingers and forming what almost appeared to be claws.

“If you’d just let us know what’s wrong with this place, we could pass through without causing you any harm,” Becca said in character.

Elliott turned and extended his neck in her direction, hissing viciously. Becca almost jumped out of her skin.

“Yoba, don’t do that!” she said, shuddering.

“We don’t need any surface dwellers coming here and bothering us!” Elliott rasped. “You made us sick. You made us scurry down here. We hide from you! You leave us alone!”

“Wait, what?” Maru asked in the northern accent she always adopted when she spoke as Helga. “What do you mean sick? Do you need help?”

“No help from surface dwellers,” Elliott said, curling his neck back and shying from the table. “You want to hurt us!”

“No!” Maru said, leaning forward. “I’m a healer. And I’m not a surface dweller, my people come from underground, too.”

Elliott looked at Maru suspiciously. “You come with them,” he said.

“They’re my friends,” Maru said. “We don’t want to hurt you. We fought back because you attacked us. If you take me to whoever needs healing, I can try to fix them.”

Elliott straightened up and went back to his normal voice. “The rat people look a little suspicious,” he said. “This is probably the first time anyone’s offered to help them. So what I would like you to do, Helga, is please roll to try and convince them.”

“And that was where everything ended,” Maru intoned dramatically as she picked up her die, shaking it in her hand and casting it down. Her eyes widened. “Oh, sweet, eighteen! Plus three – twenty-one!”

“That is definitely enough to convince them,” Elliott said, smiling. “The leader of their little contingent, the one who was talking to you, looks around to the others.” He retracted his neck again, squinching his nose and glancing back and forth. He waved toward himself. “You. You come this way,” he said. He straightened up and said, “And he beckons you forward, seeking for you to follow down the corridor.”

~~~

_The rat people, grateful for your healing, assign a scout to lead you through the underground passages. The smell is far from pleasant. You can tell there is rotting food and filth in some of the darker corners, but the scout leading you on seems to know exactly where to lead you. When she reaches one particular corridor, jutting out from the main part of the underground, she points._

_“That way,” she says. “You go. I stay. Up the ladder. You find what you looking for there.”_

_Without another word, and before you can even thank her, she scampers off back in the direction you came from. You get the feeling the rat people are uncomfortable having you around, even after you have helped them by healing their sick and wounded._

_At the end of the hallway, just as she said, there is a ladder leading up into what appears to be a kitchen of some sort. You climb the ladder, pushing up from the grate. And to your shock, you are somewhere you all recognize. You’re right back where you started this morning. The map has led you directly to the kitchen of the Lazy Cock. You have time to wonder just what could possibly be hidden here, before you hear the sound of smashing coming from the dining area. It’s accompanied by a boisterous voice, yelling, “Search the grounds! Nobody leaves here until we’ve found that map!”_

_What do you do?_

~~~

Once again, Sebastian found combat to be one of the more intensive parts of Solarian Chronicles. Playing the board game had been simple. It was just a matter of figuring out what cards to play in what order. There was always a right order. Always something that he could do to beat the scenario. But now he had to think on his feet. He had to figure out what he needed to do. And Therai was definitely one of the squishier members of the party.

Sam had taken the lead on fighting, having Darvin rush out with his greatsword and take on some of the members of the guard. Becca managed to toss some of Lyra’s spells, doing a mostly good jo. But a bad roll a couple of turns ago meant a stray fireball had lit some of the curtains on fire, which Sebastian had sent Therai over to put out. Maru had Helga pulling double duty, backing up Darvin’s fighting where she could, while also healing the members of the party when they needed it.

“Okay, I think I’m going to try attacking the big guy with this new move I just got, what does that do again?” Sam asked, picking up his sheet and holding it toward Elliott.

“Let me see… ah, yes,” Elliott said. “This is basically a battle charge, so you need to run at him with full force, and you can then attack with a standard move instead of with a penalty. If you hit, you manage to knock him back.”

“Sweet, let’s try that,” Sam said, rolling his die. Everyone at the table looked down and Sam let out a long, low groan. The 1 stared up at all of them.

Elliott leaned back and closed his eyes, gravely intoning, “Darvin, it all seemed to be going so well. Everything was going well. And then, as you charged, you found yourself clumsily tripping over one of the stray barstools that had become dislodged during the fight. You go ass over teacups, finding yourself prone right in front of the gentleman you were about to attack.”

“You got any more of those healing spells, Maru?” Sam asked hopefully. Maru held up a single finger. Sam groaned.

~~~

_Things are looking grim for all of you. With Darvin just about out of commission and Helga running low on healing spells, you all manage to share a look of grave concern. Whoever this ringleader is, he’s tough as nails. You see him reach up with the hand holding his morning star, and you know he’s about to bring it down on Darvin with full force._

_And then, without warning, he stops. He goes stiff, and then his knees go out from under him. He collapses to the floor, face-first. An arrow is suddenly sticking out of his back. Your gaze, as well as the gazes of all his lackeys who are still conscious, go to the stairs, where you see a most unexpected sight._

_Miss Nefi Frothelthimble, your gracious hostess, is standing on the stairs, brandishing a crossbow. She cocks it again, and in that sweet voice you’ve come to associate with fresh-baked rolls and warm honey wine asks, “Which of you rotten bastards wants the next one?”_

_The remaining sellswords quickly decide that discretion is the better part of valor and make for the door. Nefi proceeds down the stairs, looking at the four of you with an expression halfway between gratitude and bemusement. And then she asks, “So. Who’s interested in helping me transport something very dangerous and very expensive and very illegal to one of the ships in the bay?”_

~~~

“And I think that is a good place to end our adventure for today,” Elliott said, leaning back in his seat.

“Good grief,” Maru groaned, leaning down and putting her arms on the table, then resting her head on them. Sam patted her back.

“That was… intense,” he said. “Fun, but intense.”

“And just in time,” Becca said, turning the box upside down. “I’m out of cookies.”

“So I guess you’re not staying for dinner, then?” Sebastian asked her.

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Becca scoffed. “I work all damn day and into the night. I’m a human furnace for calories.”

Elliott laughed. “Did you all have fun today?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Maru said, raising her head. “I think I might be a little traumatized, but it was a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, thanks, Elliott,” Sam said, grinning. “This is a nice break from reality.”

“You’re all very welcome,” Elliott said, starting to gather his materials. “It’s been a real joy for me to run this, and you’re all playing so wonderfully. I very much look forward to our next session.”

“Here,” Sebastian said, starting to help. “Let me get some of this.” He glanced to the others and they all sat up and started assembling materials. Maru gathered character sheets, Becca collected the dice, Sam brushed down the table, and Sebastian helped Elliott organizing everything. Within just a couple of minutes, everything was put away and Elliott tucked his folder back into his bag.

“Wonderful, thank you all so much,” he said, smiling. “It’s… it’s very nice to have a good group like this together. I’ve seen a lot of games fade because people weren’t able to gel, and you’re all just a pleasure to run a game for.”

Becca began to open her mouth, but Elliott cut her off, saying, “Yes, even you, Rebecca.” Becca beamed.

Sebastian pushed himself up from his chair. “Mom said dinner would be ready around five, so it should be just about done,” he said.

“Oh, yeah,” Sam said, getting up quickly. “Let me at it.” He darted for the door and up the stairs. “Mrs. Hill! Mrs. Hill, you need a taste-tester?” his voice carried.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Mrs. Fischer swears she only dropped him on his head about six or seven times as a baby,” he said to the others.

Maru chuckled and got up, moving with Becca to the door. “You know mom was making bread again,” she said.

“Oooh, bread,” Becca said, hurrying up the stairs. Maru followed after her.

Alone, Sebastian reached down a hand to help Elliott up. Elliott accepted the hand and in one movement, stood, put his arms around Sebastian and leaned in, kissing him deeply. Sebastian moaned, closing his eyes and leaning up into the kiss.

Elliott broke away and leaned into Sebastian, whispering to him, “I’ve been wanting to do that for hours now.”

Sebastian shivered and pulled Elliott even closer to him yet. “I think I’m getting addicted to you,” he confessed, nuzzling against Elliott.

Elliott kissed under Sebastian’s ear, making the smaller man whimper. Sebastian felt like his knees might give out and he clutched at Elliott again. “Don’t tease me,” he begged quietly. “Please. Elliott, please.”

“Shhh,” Elliott murmured, kissing up to his cheek, then down his jaw, and finally to his lips again. “Darling. I won’t ever tease you. I care too much about you for that.” He pulled back and smiled at Sebastian. “Though I fear they might get suspicious if we’re down here much longer.”

Sebastian sighed and opened his eyes, looking up at Elliott. “Part of me just wants to lock the door and say screw it,” he said.

“And the other part?” Elliott asked.

“The other part knows mom made her lemon pesto chicken, which is _awesome_ ,” Sebastian said.

Elliott chuckled and reluctantly withdrew from his lover. “Then we should go,” he said. “It would be rude to keep them waiting.”

Sebastian took Elliott’s hand, squeezing it once, then let it go and moved to the stairs, Elliott following along.

Dinner was just about ready, and Robin had put the group to work. Maru was slicing the bread, Becca getting plates set out on the table, and Sam filling water glasses for everyone.

“What can we do to help?” Elliott asked, stepping into the kitchen.

Robin picked up a large platter with slices of chicken covered in a delicious-looking pesto sauce arranged down the center. On the outside was a tomato-cucumber-avocado salad, diced into bite-size pieces and drizzled with oil and vinegar. She handed it to Elliott and said, “Find a good central place on the table for this. Sebby, if you can get silverware and napkins, we’ll be ready to eat.”

“Sure thing, mom,” Sebastian said, moving past Elliott into the kitchen proper. He counted in his head. _Us, and Elliott, and Sam, and Becca._ Seven. He carefully pulled out seven forks and seven knives from the silverware drawer, then grabbed a series of paper napkins out of their place in the cabinet. He walked back to the dining table, moving around the table and setting first a napkin, then a knife, then a fork. Moving steadily, carefully arranging the silverware, he eventually made it to the other side of the table.

Maru followed to the table with bread and Becca with the plates. They all sat down and Robin began dishing out chicken and salad onto plates for everyone. Maru passed the breadbasket around the table and Elliott’s stomach gurgled at the comforting scent of fresh-baked bread. He took a slice and began buttering it, then handed his plate over to Robin when she motioned for it.

“Thank you so much, Robin, this all looks magnificent,” Elliott said.

“It really does,” Becca piped up. “You guys are so spoiled that you get to eat like this every day. My mom was the queen of TV dinners.”

Robin laughed. “Oh, there were plenty of those when Sebastian was young,” she said, handing Elliott back his plate and taking Maru’s from her. “Remember, Sebby? Before I started cooking, how we’d just eat fast food and nuke whatever meals were on sale at JojaMart?”

Sebastian shuddered. “I think the fast food had more nutrients than the JojaMeals,” he said.

The conversation settled in, as warm and comforting as the bread was. Elliott found himself sitting back and observing the dynamics. Robin and Demetrius had the affable bickering of a couple who had been married enough years to no longer worry about offending each other. Maru piped up with the occasional comment or quip, sometimes at one of her parents’ expense, sometimes at Sebastian’s, sometimes at her own. Sam wolfed down whatever was in front of him, joking with Sebastian or Maru at times. Becca joined in with stories about what was happening on the farm, making everyone laugh with her recollections of how Rex, the largest German shepherd any of them had ever seen, was terrified of her new scarecrow, the one she had bought at the fair the year prior and had just now gotten around to putting up.

And Sebastian remained next to him, giving him the occasional shy sideways glance. Elliott smiled softly at him when he felt nobody was giving them too much of a look. As the meal started to wind down, Elliott felt a slight sensation on the outside of his thigh. He glanced down to see Sebastian carefully stroking a couple of fingers against him. The thrill of the touch caused a rush to go through Elliott’s stomach and chest.

_I wish you weren’t so afraid about being open, darling. I would love to hold your hand. To kiss you in the open. To tell everyone I ever met that you are mine and that I adore you and that you are my favorite person in the entire world._

He wanted to shout from the rooftops with pride about how he and Sebastian were together, how Sebastian made him feel, how he wanted to wake up every morning and feel Sebastian next to him and drift off to sleep every night in his arms. Elliott wanted all of that. But he knew Sebastian wasn’t ready for it. Not hardly at all.

“Sam.” The word and the directness of the tone startled Elliott and Sebastian both. They glanced to Robin, then to Sam, who was looking up sheepishly. “You know the rule. Not at the table,” she said.

“Sorry,” Sam said, sliding his phone away.

The startle they had both gone through made Sebastian retract his hand away from Elliott’s leg, resting it on his lap. Elliott was sad for the loss of contact, but also for how afraid Sebastian was. He had no idea why Sebastian wanted to keep things under wraps. He was trying to be understanding. He knew pushing was the absolute worst thing he could do. Sebastian was so gun-shy about everything as it was; pushing him into something he wasn’t ready for would just make him retract even further into his shell.

So Elliott ate. It wasn’t hard to do – everything was absolutely delicious. The chicken and salad tasted of summer. It was so fresh. It almost reminded him of the occasional trips he and mum and dad had taken over the channel to the continent when Lady Anne had given them bonuses. They had eaten at little restaurants along the coast that served food like this, fresh and clean and tasting of the seasons.

Dinner stretched on longer than the last time Elliott had eaten over at Sebastian’s. There was no game to rush back to, so everyone relaxed, enjoying the conversation and the food in equal measures. But eventually the plates were cleaned and the last bits of chicken and salad and bread had been eaten.

“I insist on at least helping with the dishes this time,” Elliott said. “It’s the least I can do after you fed us such a magnificent meal.”

“I’ll help, too,” Sebastian said quickly, getting up and starting to clear the table. He wasn’t going to make Elliott wash all the dishes himself.

“I hate to run, but that rain isn’t letting up and I really do need to get back and make sure the animals are all set for bed,” Becca said. “Let me at least help getting the table cleared.” She and Sam and Maru moved to help Elliott and Sebastian with getting the table cleared, and then Becca and Sam said their goodbyes, Becca giving hugs and Sam high-fiving Sebastian.

Elliott shuddered to hear the pounding of the rain as Becca and Sam left, both of them taking their umbrellas and braving the storm. Maru and Demetrius and Robin bustled around the kitchen, but Elliott insisted on remaining at the sink, doing the washing-up.

Sebastian stayed by his side, carefully stacking the rinsed dishes in the dishwasher. When he felt it was safe, he leaned in and murmured, “Washing dishes isn’t bad for your skin, is it?”

Elliott shook his head. “My hands aren’t too affected,” he said, just barely keeping his voice over the sound of the running water in the sink. “Now if I were to jump in the ocean and get salt water all over my chest and sides, that would put me out of commission for a couple of days while I healed.”

Sebastian shuddered at the thought. He couldn’t imagine having to think so carefully about what he could and couldn’t do. But Elliott had to think about that at every single step of his life. He had to worry about what would make his skin react. What would irritate it, what would make it crack open and bleed. And he had to avoid so many things. Sebastian’s heart ached to think about how difficult things were for Elliott. He wanted to keep Elliott safe, to protect him from everything. It hurt him to think about what he couldn’t keep Elliott safe from.

Elliott finished with the last of the plates and set it on the counter. He turned around and asked, “Demetrius, if you’re free, could I trouble you to talk about those questions I had now?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Demetrius said, finishing wiping down the counter. “Just let me finish up with this and I’ll be right with you.”

“I just have to dart back downstairs and get my things,” Elliott said. “Be right back.” He moved from the kitchen down the hall to the stairs leading back to Sebastian’s room. He pushed into the room and moved to pick up his bag. As he did so, he paused. The chocolate box, the box Sebastian had bought for him – _Chocolates. He bought chocolates for me. He really does care._ – was right next to his bag. Elliott reached for it and tucked it carefully inside. He would have to eat those sparingly. Each time, he would imagine Sebastian was there with him, luxuriating in the experience.

Elliott moved back up the stairs and saw Sebastian already sitting at the table. Sebastian gave him an encouraging smile and motioned for Elliott to sit next to him. Elliott did, pulling out the folder of papers he had brought with him and beginning to rifle through it.

“All right,” Demetrius said, settling back down at the table. “So, what can I help you with, Elliott?”

Elliott reached in the folder and pulled out a few pieces of paper where he had made notes. “I believe Sebastian told you that I’m writing a science fiction novel set on an alien world, yes?”

“He did,” Demetrius said. 

Sebastian sat, carefully watching the two of them. He felt as coiled as a spring, ready to jump in and come to Elliott’s defense if Demetrius said something thoughtless or offensive.

“So here are the details I’ve written down so far,” Elliott said, placing them before Demetrius. He had tried writing them out, but then decided to type them up. It was quicker, and he didn’t have to worry about anyone having to decipher his looping handwriting. “I’ve established that the ocean is the main source of life, that it flows out as fresh water into the continents of the world, and there is some megafauna and some large, docile animals. The main diet of the locals of the planet is fish and plants.”

Demetrius looked over the notes, reading carefully. He was quiet as he glanced through, occasionally flipping back and forth with some of the things Elliott had written. Sebastian almost wanted to scream, to do something to break the tension. He could see the look of anxiety on Elliott’s face, the way he was waiting to hear something that might tie things together. But Demetrius just kept a furrowed brow as he seemed to consider what to do.

At long last, Demetrius looked up. “What’s the topography of the world?” he asked.

“Sorry?” Elliott asked, not seeming to have anticipated that question.

“Is it fairly mountainous, mostly plains, some variation? What did you have planned?” Demetrius asked.

Elliott sat back and considered. “I… hadn’t really thought much of it,” he said, thinking. “There are some plains, that is for certain. And I have a section where there’s exploration of a large underground cave system. But I’ve focused so much on the coasts and the oceans that I haven’t thought of the interior of the continent so much.”

“Then that’s your solution,” Demetrius said. He flipped one of the pages over and started drawing what appeared to be a close approximation of Ferngill. “So, this is our nation,” he said, looking to Elliott. “One of the reasons why we have such a bounty of resources is because of how bioregionally diverse we are. Here in the valley, there’s very rich soil, the mountains have an excess of mineral deposits. Then you go into the desert, and the plains, and the rivers that connect…” he continued drawing different regions carefully showing and explaining all of the different areas of Ferngill.

Sebastian watched Elliott, who was looking carefully at the hand-drawn map, eyebrows furrowed and nodding, seeming to take in what Demetrius was saying, but not particularly understanding where he was going with it.

Demetrius finished by jotting the Fern Islands down in the Gem Sea, then looked up to Elliott. “What you have is completely explainable. You just have to indicate where the different bioregions are,” he said. “There’s definition in our world. We know where the mountains and the valley end the desert begins. And then the plains around Zuzu, the ones that go all the way north, and how the rainforests of the west are their own entire region. We wouldn’t expect to see species out of their own biome, because that isn’t where they belong. It’s the same with your world. You craft a tropical or subtropical area, that’s where the megafauna is.”

Sebastian watched as Demetrius began sketching out an entirely new area. He shaded in a southwestern section and then jotted “rainforest – megafauna” next to it. “Then over here, you have your caves and your flatlands where the ocean has really impacted them,” he said, drawing a different set of shading lines and writing “caves – oceanic influence – aquatic wildlife.” “And you keep doing this, clarifying where things belong. Nothing you’ve written all coexists in the same area. You just have to make it clear where it goes. And if you start tying things together…” Demetrius drew a line between the two areas and wrote under it “migrations of birds, seeds grow larger in fertile soil,” then looked up.

“If you tie things together, you can start to explain exactly how the different parts of the world fit with one another,” Demetrius said. “Someone takes a houseplant as a gift from Stardew Valley, gets tired of it and chucks it out the window in the northwest rainforests, and it grows to an eighty-foot long vine, because there are no natural predators and the soil is so fertile. The same thing with your world. You can write the rules, you just have to figure out how one thing connects to another.”

Elliott seemed to be having inspiration strike, the more he looked over the notes Demetrius was making. “This is…” he looked up. “This is so simple,” he confessed. “I – I truly can’t believe I didn’t think of this.”

Demetrius looked about as pleased as Sebastian had ever seen. “Biology isn’t hard,” he said. “You just have to understand the connections between things. How one thing relates to another. Thinking about how something acts very differently in a different region than it’s used to, that’s all you have to do.”

Elliott quickly picked up a pen and started jotting down notes. “So if I…” he began. “Yes, I could make the lumbering beasts of the plains something that inadvertently acted as transportation of seeds from one part of the world to another. Maybe as they walk through the rivers, the water carries something from their feet or their skins upstream and…”

Elliott’s hand flew as he quickly started writing things down. “This is – Demetrius, you are an absolute lifesaver,” he said, looking up briefly. “Thank you so very much. You have no idea how much you’ve helped.”

Demetrius cracked a grin. “Well, you’re – you’re quite welcome, Elliott,” he said. “I have to say, I’m really looking forward to reading the book and seeing how this all comes together.”

“I think it actually _will_ come together now,” Elliott said. He glanced from Demetrius to Sebastian to Maru to Robin. “Is there a – I’m so sorry, is there a desk I might sit at for a moment to take some notes?”

“Here,” Robin said, standing. She began walking from the room and Elliott eagerly took his notes and followed her. Sebastian found himself standing and watching as Robin led Elliott to one of her woodworking benches. She swept some of the sawdust off and pulled a seat up for him. “Feel free to work as long as you want. I’m something of an early riser, so I won’t be up much longer.”

“You’re very kind,” Elliott said, eagerly sitting and starting to write at a lightning pace.

Robin chuckled. “Tell you what,” she said. “There’s a bathroom right next to our guest room. I’m sure we have a spare toothbrush and toothpaste you can use. You work as long as you want and don’t even worry about going home tonight. That storm is something awful out there.”

Elliott looked up, smiling gratefully. “Thank you, Robin,” he said. “Not just for letting me stay, but your hospitality, and your kindness and…” he trailed off. “I’m very grateful.”

Robin smiled back. “I’m grateful that you’ve been Sebastian’s friend,” she said, resting a hand on Elliott’s shoulder. “He needs people to care about him. And you’ve been really good for him. He smiles more now. He seems to be in better spirits. He even is trying to stop smoking. I… feel like you have something to do with that.” Before Elliott realized it, Robin was putting her arms around him and giving him a hug. He smiled and leaned up, hugging her back.

“He’s been very good to me as well,” Elliott said. “He’s helped me more than I care to admit with the book. And he’s kept me focused. I’m very grateful for him.”

Robin’s eyes softened. “Let me go get some fresh sheets on our guest bed,” she said, pulling back and smoothing some of Elliott’s hair. “You are more than welcome to stay the night. And in the morning, I’ve got some of Becca’s peaches. I could make peach waffles, with some bacon and eggs, if that sounds good.”

Elliott put his hand to his chest. “If you keep feeding me like this, I’m never going to leave,” he said. Robin laughed.

Neither of them saw how Sebastian watched them from the dining room, eyes soft and looking like he might melt. Watching Elliott and mom get along this well did something inside of him, something he hadn’t ever felt before. It was like the feeling of sliding under warm covers on a cold winter night, having his face exposed just enough to feel the chill of the air while his body was warmed through by the comfort and blankets around him.

Sebastian felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. Demetrius was smiling at the sight of Robin and Elliott’s banter as much as he himself was.

“They seem to get along pretty well,” he said.

“Yeah,” Sebastian agreed, looking back.

“I’m glad you’re making some more friends, Seb,” Demetrius said. “Elliott’s a nice guy. Very smart. I like having him around.”

“I do, too,” Sebastian said, more to himself than to his stepfather, as he watched Elliott turn and get back to work. 

_If you only knew how much._

~~~

Later that night, Sebastian lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He had stayed up until Elliott had been ready to go to bed, and had showed him the guest bedroom and bath, made sure he had everything he needed, then gave Elliott a hug and moved back downstairs. He’d crawled into bed, thinking he might try to get to sleep early so he could be up around the time Elliott was.

Except that now he couldn’t sleep. The thought that Elliott was just one floor up, sleeping in the guest room, was driving him crazy. He pushed out of bed and moved carefully to the door, opening it. It was dark upstairs. Mom and Demetrius had gone to bed at least an hour earlier. And he could hear Maru’s music playing. No doubt she was working on her inventions. His heart flipped in his chest. He began carefully making his way upstairs.

_Why are you even sneaking? It’s your house, too._

He knew why, though. He didn’t want to draw anyone’s attention. He slipped down toward the guest room. The light underneath was still on. Elliott must have still been awake. Sebastian swallowed and very quietly knocked at the door. He heard the sound of the bedsprings creaking and feet moving to the door.

Elliott opened the door and his face brightened to see Sebastian on the other side. Sebastian felt his chest squeeze. Yoba, even with that stupid t-shirt and in a pair of sweats, Elliott had to be the most handsome man he’d ever seen in his life.

“Hello, there,” Elliott said quietly, moving into the doorway and standing just a few inches from Sebastian. “I’m glad to see you.”

Sebastian moved forward and put his arms around Elliott, burying his face in Elliott’s chest. “I wanted to see you again. One more time before bed,” he murmured.

Elliott kissed the top of his head. “I felt the same way,” he said. One arm went around Sebastian’s back, the other hand came up and began stroking his hair. “It’s so strange to be this close to you and not…”

“I know,” Sebastian said. He sighed and looked up. “I’m… scared of anyone seeing,” he admitted. “But I just…” He reached up and pressed his lips against Elliott’s, closing his eyes. Elliott closed his eyes as well and for a few moments, they both remained in an embrace, kissing each other quietly, softly, not daring to make much noise in the quiet, dark house.

Neither noticed how Maru turned the corner from the kitchen, a glass of water in hand. How her eyes widened and she quickly ducked back around the corner, putting a hand to her mouth. How she slipped back into the kitchen, sliding down to the floor and sitting behind the counter, where Sebastian wouldn’t see her when he walked back to his room.

Maru remained sitting in the kitchen, training her ears as carefully as she could. In the quiet of the house, she was just barely able to hear the sounds of kissing, of some murmurs between Elliott and Sebastian. Of the door to the guest room closing. And the sound of Sebastian padding along back down the hall, then down the stairs to his room.

Maru looked down into her glass of water as if it held some answer, something to explain to her how she had just seen her brother kissing another man. And not tentatively, not for the first time – the way Elliott and Sebastian had held each other, had pressed against each other, this had to have been going on for a while.

Maru let out a long breath and leaned her head back against the cabinet. _Well. That was unexpected._ She had never known Seb was gay. She wasn’t sure if mom or dad knew. She had always assumed he had a thing for Abby. That seemed to be where his interest – if he ever showed any interest – lay. 

And she did know that with the small ways that she and Seb were getting along better lately, if she were to say anything – especially to Seb – that would ruin everything. Maybe their relationship wouldn’t ever be the same. But on the other hand, if Seb found out she did know and she hadn’t said anything to him, maybe he would think she didn’t support him.

It was a long time before Maru was able to push herself to her feet and walk through the house back to her room. The water in her glass had lost its coolness and was starting to become room temperature. She set it down on her desk and closed the door behind her. She sat down on her bed and put her head in her hands.

_Yoba, what the hell am I supposed to do now?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anything else, I want to give a huge thank you to everyone who commented last week when I posted my note about not being able to get a chapter up. I’ve been incredibly pleased with how encouraging this community has been, and everyone who posted was supportive and encouraging me to get the work done when it got done. And now, it is done!
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. I really love exploring the ways in which Sebastian and Elliott have grown to appreciate each other’s bodies and the sensuality of just being together with the one they care about. I also really enjoy riding the knife’s edge of Sebastian being completely panicked about anyone finding out about them and simultaneously being desperate to hold and touch and kiss Elliott whenever he’s nearby.
> 
> This week, Robin's cooking comes from [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ws3CgEqQNU&t=1s) magnificent recipe. It is one of my favorite summer dishes, one that is bright and cool and has all the best flavors of the season.
> 
> Next week: the Luau! I particularly like writing the festival episodes and seeing how these two react to them, and the Luau is such a fun time anyway. After the Luau, there are some pretty hefty developments that will be happening, and Sebastian and Elliott will have to figure out just what’s going on and how they’re moving forward with their relationship. But before then, they’ll be able to grab some soup and watch as Emily passes out from heatstroke from dancing too much in the sweltering sun.
> 
> The last thing I want to mention is something that has completely blown me away. Four chapters ago, I was excited to be almost at 1000 hits on this story. Two chapters ago, I was thrilled to be almost at 2000 hits. And now, shortly before I posted this chapter, I was gobsmacked to see that we reached 3000 hits. The reception this story has gotten has been so incredibly gratifying and fulfilling, and I’m so, so, so happy to see how much you’ve all been enjoying it. Thank you all again for the views, the kudos, the bookmarks, and the comments. They have absolutely thrilled me and I’m so grateful for them, and for all of you. See you next week, guys!


	13. Hula Hoop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I listened to while writing this chapter was “Jump in the Line (Shake, Senora)” by Harry Belafonte, found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kMXBJW1PuU8).

“Strange to see how a good dinner and feasting reconciles everybody.”  
-Samuel Pepys

It was laughter that caused Sebastian to wake up, squinting confusedly. His room was still dark, it was always dark when he had the lights out, but he could tell from the light that peeked in under the door that it was morning. The laughter was coming from upstairs. He could hear mom’s chuckling, a little louder than usual, and Demetrius’s guffaws that he tried to keep under control. And then the sound of another voice, a warm, rich voice with that posh Pangolais accent picked up, no doubt telling a story of some sort. The laughter continued again.

Sebastian rolled over and looked at the bedside clock. 9:48. Not too late, but if he wanted to spend some time with Elliott this morning, he needed to get up. He rolled out of bed, reaching for the lamp by his bedside and flicking it on. He could shower after breakfast. He wanted to see Elliott. He wanted to eat breakfast with him. Wanted to pretend like this was going to be how things always were.

_They might be someday._

The thought stopped him in his tracks. He hadn’t considered what the long-term might be between him and Elliott. But the idea of being able to fall asleep in Elliott’s arms, to wake up to him, to hear that voice and feel those arms and that kiss whenever he wanted – it almost made him feel weak in the knees to think about.

But it was too early to talk to Elliott about that. Fuck, he’d even asked Elliott to be quiet about them. _You’re a damn coward._ He swallowed, trying to clear the sudden lump in his throat. He really was being a coward about this. He couldn’t think of anyone in town – other than maybe George Mullner – who would be a dick about them getting together. But the idea of being open, of everyone knowing, made his back itch in a way that seeped through to his very core. His lungs squeezed and Sebastian found himself sitting heavily back down on the bed.

_Why are you like this? Why are you such a fucking idiot about this?_

Elliott was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Bar none. The way Elliott made him feel, the way Sebastian felt when Elliott looked into his eyes and murmured words of love and affirmation, the way his body felt like it might dissolve into nothingness when Elliott kissed him and when they pressed their bodies together and he was inside of Elliott – Yoba, how had he gotten so lucky? He should be screaming from the roofs how lucky he was that Elliott Rourke wanted to be with him. _Him._ He was nothing. He was a basement-dwelling freelancer who didn’t get paid anywhere near what his skill level was because he was too anxious and too afraid to go to college.

But Elliott wanted him. He wanted to be with Sebastian. And he was being patient – more patient than Sebastian deserved – by waiting for Sebastian to be ready to tell people. Sebastian had no idea how this had happened. His lungs felt squeezed together too tightly for him to breathe. And then he heard the laughter from upstairs again, and suddenly, oxygen flowed.

Elliott was here. He was here now. Sebastian just had to walk upstairs and he could see him. He pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to force back the heat that he could already tell was working its way forward.

Harvey was right. He had to talk to somebody. But admitting that was as hard as admitting that he was falling in love with another man. Growing up, he had always felt the stares, heard the jeers, sensed the disapproval because he was different. He hated being different. He hated anything that made him seem different than anyone else. And the anxiety, and the being gay, those were two more things that were going to make him stand out. They were two more things that were going to make people stare and whisper about him when they thought he couldn’t hear.

Sebastian wiped at his eyes and focused on breathing steadily. A deep breath in, to the count of ten, and then out to the count of five. And again. And again. He could feel the trembling in his hands ease and he opened his eyes.

Breakfast. They were probably already having breakfast. If he wanted to see Elliott, he was going to have to go. Sebastian got up, moving to put on his t-shirt and his pajama bottoms, then opened the door and started making his way up the stairs. He could make out Elliott’s voice, could hear the mirth in it, but he wasn’t able to make out the words until he got to the top of the stairs.

“…and that was when mum realized that what he’d _actually_ handed her to toss in the quiche wasn’t cottage cheese at all, it was the leftover tapioca pudding!”

Robin and Demetrius roared with laughter and Sebastian found himself stopped at the top of the stairs. Elliott continued with his story, but Sebastian couldn’t even make out the words. He was struck by how comfortable Elliott sounded. It was like he was a part of the family already. The way he was telling the story, the sound of their reactions – he couldn’t ever remember sharing something as easily and funnily as Elliott was doing now. _They like him. They really do like him._ The thought made him close his eyes and take in a deep breath. _They like him as much as I do._

Sebastian’s eyes felt hot again and he blinked back the heat. No. He wasn’t going to be teary-eyed coming to the table. Then they’d want to know what was wrong. He took in one last deep breath and let it out slowly. He opened his eyes and moved into the dining room. Robin had her head resting on one hand, mug of coffee in the other. Demetrius was leaning back in his chair, chest shaking from laughter. Elliott – that ham – was gleefully drawing out the story as long as he could.

“And so we all decided that the better part of valor was to go get some sausage rolls and pretend like that was a proper Feast of the Winter Star breakfast,” Elliott finished. Robin laughed again, wiping at her eyes.

“Ohh, dear,” she said, shaking her head. “I haven’t had a disaster like that in probably… twenty years or so.” She glanced over to Demetrius. “Honey, you remember when I tried – oh, Sebby, you’re up!” She smiled at Sebastian and Elliott turned to see him, eyes lighting up when their gaze met.

“Yeah, I – I woke up and heard you guys, so I came upstairs,” he said. His voice sounded puny, he could tell. Nothing compared to the rich resonance of Elliott’s story.

“Well, come sit down,” Robin said, standing and moving to the stove. “I have everything ready to make breakfast, we were just going to wait on you before we ate.”

“You… you didn’t have to wait,” Sebastian said. He was surprised at the pleasure that coursed through him. They never waited for him to eat. To be fair, he didn’t really care for a lot of breakfast foods. Mostly what he had in the morning was coffee. But they’d waited for him this time. He took a seat next to Elliott, who picked up the coffee pot and poured him a mug.

“Did you sleep well?” Elliott asked him.

“Yeah,” Sebastian said. He watched as Elliott carefully poured the cup, then pulled it back right as it was starting to get full. He glanced up. “How about you?”

“Oh, marvelous,” Elliott said. “That bed in your spare room is a dream. So much nicer than mine.”

“Robin made it,” Demetrius said. “That was one thing I didn’t quite get, was the four-poster bed. But I took a nap on it one day and I became an instant convert.”

“Demetrius leaves the design to me,” Robin said, stirring the waffle batter in a large bowl. “He’s the left brain, I’m the right brain.”

“And that’s always worked for us,” Demetrius smiled.

“Well, if you did make that glorious bed, I will absolutely commission you to make one for me,” Elliott said. “I sleep on a very creaky old bed with a mattress that’s probably older than I am.”

Robin shuddered. “I think we may want to take care of that before we take care of putting in the kitchen,” she said, pouring the batter into the waffle iron and closing the lid. She turned her attention to the pan that she layered bacon into. The sound and smell of sizzling bacon filled the kitchen. “Having a fancy kitchen is very nice, but you spend a third of your life in bed. You’ve got to be able to get a good night’s sleep.”

Elliott turned to Sebastian. “Your mother is a natural-born saleswoman,” he said. Robin laughed and waved her wooden spoon at him.

“And don’t you forget it,” she said, winking.

“I mean, when she decided she was going to flirt with me, with that combination of charm and good looks? I didn’t have a chance,” Demetrius said.

Sebastian heard footsteps in the hall and looked up as Maru entered the door, pausing as she took in the sight of Elliott and her family having breakfast.

“Morning, sweetie!” Robin said. “We’re just about to eat, grab a plate.”

“Actually,” Maru began. Demetrius and Robin both turned to look at her. “I’m just – I’ll just get one of those peaches. I told Penny I’d meet her in town. We were going to hang out today.”

“Oh, it’s only going to be maybe ten minutes more, if that,” Robin said. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait?”

“No, I’m good. I ate a lot at dinner last night, I’m still full,” Maru said. Sebastian noticed her glance in his direction as she moved through the kitchen, pulling one of the peaches out of the bowl and tucking it into her bag. “I’ll be back later.”

And without another word, Maru moved from the kitchen and was out the front door before anyone could utter a peep.

The silence that settled on the kitchen was awkward. Elliott could tell there was something strange to what had just occurred. Robin’s brow was furrowed as she poured some scrambled eggs tossed with bell peppers and onions into a pan. Demetrius reached for the paper and opened it. Even Sebastian seemed a little off. Elliott had been around enough uncomfortable silences in his life to know the best way to get through it was to pretend nothing was wrong.

He cleared his throat and said, “Robin, I have to ask – you were going to tell me your last cooking fiasco?”

Robin laughed, clearly relieved to have something else to discuss besides her daughter’s strange behavior. “Well, it happened to be the Feast of the Winter Star as well,” she said. “I had never cooked a turkey before, but I was absolutely determined to do it. And my parents and I had had a spat a couple weeks earlier, so I couldn’t really call my mom up and ask her for advice.” She stirred the eggs in the pan. “And the first step that was listed in the recipe I found was to clean the turkey, but I didn’t have any idea what that meant. So I looked around the kitchen.” She began flipping the bacon. “Sebby, you tell him what happened next.”

Elliott turned to Sebastian, who had a small grin on his face. “She noticed the oven had a clean button,” he said.

 _“No,”_ Elliott gaped. He looked back toward the stove. “Robin, you _didn’t._ ”

“It’s a miracle I didn’t burn the apartment down,” she said. “I was almost five months pregnant with Maru, and Sebastian had just turned four and Demetrius was trying to finish his thesis for his Master’s and I was convinced that I was going to give everybody the best Feast of the Winter Star they’d ever had. That poor turkey died in vain. It looked like charcoal when I pulled it out of the oven.”

“She was so upset,” Demetrius chuckled. “I just heard bawling and I knew I had to do something, so I ran in and saw her sitting on the ground, sobbing, and Sebastian putting his arms around her and he was just saying, ‘It’s okay, mommy. It’s okay.’”

Sebastian felt a hot blush streak across his cheeks and up his neck. But Elliott turned to him, putting his hand to his chest and letting out a noise of delight.

“That’s so sweet, what a good boy you were,” he said.

“He was my little buddy. Always following me around, always wanting to try to build something like I was,” Robin said.

“I was _four,_ ” Sebastian mumbled. He could feel the heat stretch to his ears and his forehead. Yoba, he had to be blushing radioactively.

“Don’t be embarrassed, that was such a kind thing,” Elliott said. Under the table, Sebastian felt Elliott rest his hand atop Sebastian’s. The touch, as small as it was, seemed to alleviate the worst of his embarrassment. Elliott turned back to Robin and Demetrius. “So, did you manage to salvage the meal or was it takeout?”

“Oh, takeout,” Robin said. “We managed to find the one place in Grampleton that was still open and we got a family-sized lasagna that wasn’t half bad. But that was the last time I ever tried to cook anything new for a special occasion. After that, there was always a trial run.”

“That was when you started watching the Queen of Sauce,” Sebastian said. “Everything always looked so good.”

“You know, people make fun of her for her mannerisms and how she says things, but she saved this family. I would have given us all food poisoning without that cookbook,” Robin said, lifting the waffle iron and pulling out the last of the waffles. “All right, this is just about ready.”

Sebastian got up and moved into the kitchen. “Here – let me,” he said, picking up the platter of waffles. Robin looked at Sebastian, clearly surprised but pleased at the offer of help.

“Thank you,” she said. She looked in at Elliott. “Elliott, what would you like to drink? We’ve got the coffee, and some milk, and some orange juice.”

“Orange juice sounds lovely,” Elliott said. “Especially this time of year. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No – no, no, no, you sit there,” Robin said, moving to the fridge and pulling out the carafe of orange juice. “You are a guest. You sit and relax. If you stay longer than three days, you get downgraded to family, and then you’ll be expected to pitch in.”

Breakfast tasted as good as it smelled. The waffles were soft in the middle, with chunks of peach that had almost caramelized from the heat of the iron and which burst, releasing juice when Sebastian bit into them. The bacon was extra crisp, just how he liked it, so that it almost shattered when it hit the plate. He ended up taking a second helping of both and pouring some warm maple syrup – another product from Amethyst Farm that was so much better than anything store-bought – over his waffles. Everyone seemed content to eat without engaging much in conversation.

Elliott also seemed to be enjoying the meal quite a bit, taking some of everything that was offered and thanking Robin graciously each time. Sebastian tried not to shudder as he saw Elliott eating the eggs. He had always hated eggs, ever since he was a young boy. Something about the texture, the softness that squished when he bit into them, made even the thought of eating eggs feel repulsive. But Elliott was getting so much pleasure out of the meal that it pushed Sebastian’s egg revulsion to the side.

He found himself glancing sideways to Elliott, savoring the smile of pleasure and the quiet noises Elliott made as he ate. Everything Elliott did brought him joy. He wished he were braver. He wished he could talk about how Elliott made him feel, that he wouldn’t feel self-conscious holding Elliott’s hand and walking with him through town, of cuddling up in a booth at the saloon with him, of sharing quiet kisses no matter who might see.

Instead, he set his fork down and picked up his coffee cup, drinking the last of it. He moved his hand to the outside of Elliott’s thigh, gently resting his hand on it and stroking along it carefully, deliberately. Elliott had a good poker face. His leg muscles flexed just slightly when Sebastian touched him without warning, and then he relaxed. He managed to keep his face neutral the entire time. 

As Sebastian moved his hand over to gently run his fingertips along Elliott’s inner thigh, he felt a slight shiver of desire go through Elliott. A similar one rippled through him. He had this effect on Elliott. He had no idea why. Elliott was so handsome and so smart and so _good._ He could have been with anyone he wanted. Sebastian had no idea why he wanted to be with him. He set his coffee mug down and cautiously ran his hand back across Elliott’s thigh to rest in his own lap. He glanced sideways quickly. Elliott’s face was as neutral as it had been before, though Sebastian could see Elliott’s head was slightly tucked down. His breathing seemed to be a bit more deliberate than before. Sebastian stifled a smile.

Elliott lay his fork down and drank the last of his glass of orange juice, letting out a satisfied sigh after he finished. “That was a magnificent breakfast, thank you so very much,” he said.

“You’re quite welcome,” Robin said. “Would you care for anything else?”

“Thank you, but no,” Elliott said. “If I eat much more, you’re going to have to roll me down the mountain to get me back home.”

Robin laughed. “You’re welcome to join us anytime, Elliott,” she said. “It’s always a pleasure to have you at our table.”

“I told Sebastian and Maru the last time I was over here that if you kept feeding me like this, I might just move in and become your live-in housekeeper,” Elliott said.

“Don’t you dare threaten me with a good time,” Robin said, standing and starting to clear the table. Elliott and Demetrius and Sebastian moved into the kitchen proper to help clean up, despite Robin’s protests. With the four of them working together, it took no time for everything to be cleaned, and Elliott moved with his bag toward the door.

Sebastian followed, picking up Elliott’s furled umbrella and stepping outside with him, shutting the door behind them. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” he said, looking up at Elliott and feeling the same pang he always did when they had to part.

“I know,” Elliott sighed. He placed his hand on the side of Sebastian’s face and gently stroked his cheek with his thumb. “But I really do need to get these revisions finished. I’m going to try to knock them out as fast as I can.” He considered for a moment. “The Luau is next week, yes?”

“Yeah. Thursday,” Sebastian said.

Elliott paused, then glanced about. When he was sure nobody was there, he leaned in, softly kissing Sebastian’s neck. He leaned up and murmured, “If I’m finished by then… would you spend the night after the Luau with me?”

Sebastian felt a shiver wrack through his entire body, despite the heat of the day. He nodded, eagerly – too eagerly, maybe, but he was so excited about the idea of spending the night at Elliott’s house that he didn’t care. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, of course. I can – I can just tell mom I’m sleeping over at Sam’s.”

“Wonderful,” Elliott said, drawing back and smiling at him. “I’ll be looking forward to that all week.”

“I will, too,” Sebastian said. Elliott leaned in and kissed him, just once, quickly, but a kiss nonetheless. Elliott drew back and pulled back his hand. Sebastian wordlessly handed the umbrella to Elliott, looking up at him with eyes full of adoration and wonder.

Elliott took the umbrella from Sebastian and smiled at him, the same smile that made his insides feel soft and warm. “Thank you, darling,” he said, holding it by the handle. “I’ll see you Thursday, then?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, feeling like his stupid grin was going to crack his face clean in half. “See you Thursday.”

Elliott took his hand and squeezed it once before he turned to go. Sebastian remained by the door, watching as Elliott started the walk down the hillside toward Pelican Town. His burgundy coat and auburn hair stood out among the vibrant green of summer. It let Sebastian see him longer than he normally would be able to. And then he disappeared into the row of buildings that lined the back of Pelican Town, and Sebastian let out a long, hot breath of desire.

_Thursday._

~~~

_Outgoing email_

_From: Elliott.Rourke@zsu.edu  
To: cjarvis@zuzucontinental.com  
Date: Wed. June 24 10:31 p.m.  
Subject: Revisions to_ When Stars Collide

_Dear Cynthia,_

_I’ve attached the file with my revisions to the novel that you’ve requested. I’ve done my best to take care of everything you’ve asked for, as well as made a few minor corrections as I went through. Among the big changes I’ve made are as follows:_

_1.) Chapter 19 has now been completely revised to present the battle from the three different perspectives. I’ve started with Seamus, then moved to General Hollings, and finally to Inari. This is per your request to streamline the battle and run through it three separate times, rather than cutting from one perspective to another. I’ve had to provide a good bit of context, and so I’ve focused chapter 19 entirely on the battle itself. The aftermath has been moved to chapter 20._

_2.) I went back to chapter 4 and added in some more of Seamus’s backstory as a colonist, how his parents died when he was young, and how that made him more inclined to accept dangerous missions. I wasn’t entirely satisfied with it when I first wrote it, and the feedback and ideas you gave me helped clarify some of the points I wished to make._

_3.) Throughout the first seven chapters, I’ve added in more clarification about the interconnections between the world, and have provided information about the various temperate and climatic zones on Abraxas. I was able to do this with the help of a local biologist here in Pelican Town. I also remember you saying that we might want to include a map of the world as an image before the actual story starts. I know a very talented artist here in town by the name of Leah Duchamp; if you’d like, I can put you in touch with her._

_4.) Chapter 8, which initially ended with Inari and Seamus’s first love scene, now has a bit more of them telling each other of their stories and their history. I’ve moved the love scene into chapter 9 and expanded it out. This has made chapter 9 a bit longer than most of the other chapters, so if you’d like, I can break chapter 9 into two separate chapters._

_I believe this covers everything that you wanted me to focus on in revision and I know it’s beaten the July 15 deadline of getting the book ready to go for publication in autumn. Obviously, I’ll be happy to make any additional changes you feel are necessary. This is my number one priority right now and I’m more than happy to burn the midnight oil a little longer to make sure it’s ready and as successful as it can be._

_Thank you again for all your help and encouragement through this process; it’s meant more to me than you can know._

_All the best,_

_Elliott_

~~~

The day of the Luau dawned hot and bright. Elliott lay in bed, listening to the noise of people moving to and from the beach. He could hear Lewis’s voice, giving instructions to whoever was present with the kind of practiced authority that came from doing the same thing that had been done many, many times before.

After he had sent his email and the manuscript to Cynthia, Elliott had been unable to sleep much, only getting a fitful catnap or two and spending much of the rest of the night staring at the ceiling and thinking about the future. It was done, now – the book was in, and that was the hard part, allegedly. Now the control was out of his hands. Its success depended on how the book was marketed, on word of mouth, on good reviews. Elliott couldn’t control any of that.

And so he listened as the tables and the soup cauldron and the burners for making sure food stayed warm were placed out on the beach. The year prior, he had completely forgotten about the Luau. A combination of too much wine and a late-night writing session had him stumbling out of the cabin mid-morning only to see all the hubbub. He’d gone pale as he realized he hadn’t thought to bring anything for the communal soup. Fortunately, a few days earlier he had bought some lovely tomatoes at Pierre’s. He’d darted back inside, quartered them, and brought them out to toss into the hotpot.

This year, he had been determined not to make the same mistake. In the days leading up to the Luau, he had taken his fishing pole out onto the dock and cast it out to sea, looking to find a nice fish to bring and share with the soup. He enjoyed fishing. There was something peaceful about it, something that allowed his mind to calm and peace to settle on him. And he’d gotten good at it, ever since his first, rather pitiful attempts. He now felt like he was able to anticipate the pull and course of a fish on his line. Willy had encouraged him, had told him to keep up the practice. Had reminded him of the fishing contest at the Festival of Ice, and told him that he wanted worthy competitors this year.

Elliott’s ancestors had been fishermen and women. His great-granny had her own fishing boat, and to hear dad tell it, she was a scourge to all the cod and herring in the Sea of Pangolais. She’d been one of the most successful fisherwomen on the west coast of the nation. No doubt there was some primal memory that made fishing feel so peaceful to Elliott.

But dad had also cautioned him about the dangers of taking too much from the sea. One weekend, when he had been twelve, mum and dad had taken him up to the village where granddad was born, where great-granny had plied her trade out on the sea. Everything was in disarray. There were few people there, and the houses looked almost all abandoned. Only a single shop was open, and the sea was gray and quiet.

 _“This is what happens when you take too much from nature,”_ dad had told him. _“When you get greedy and you take and take and take and don’t care whether there’s anything left, you get this. Great-granny and the other fishermen and women didn’t know what they were doing. They thought there would always be fish for them to take and sell to market. But then, one year, the fish population collapsed. It’s never recovered. And neither has this place.”_

Elliott had taken the lesson to heart. He tried to always be respectful of nature, to not tread too far from a path, or to take things that he didn’t need. When he had sat out on the dock and cast his line, he always threw back smaller fish, the ones that hadn’t had a chance to live their lives yet. He’d taken nearly a full afternoon, waiting for the right fish to come along. And then it had. He’d had to fight with it, bracing his feet against the rail of the dock, barely managing to reel it in, but when he had, pride burst through him. A tuna, beautiful and full, one that would add flavor to the soup and feed most of the community. It was the biggest fish he had ever landed. He’d taken the tuna to Willy’s shop, explaining the situation, and Willy had let him store it in the refrigerator until the day of the Luau. _“I’ll leave it out on your porch in the morning,”_ Willy had told him. 

When Elliott finally gave up on sleep and pushed himself out of bed, he pulled his hair up into a loose bun, padded over to the door and opened it, smiling at the brown-wrapped paper package on the stoop. He reached down and picked it up, then scanned the beach. Marnie and Willy and Gus and Emily and Clint and a few others were already there, moving tables, setting up the areas where people would gather and chat and eat and celebrate the beauty of summer.

Marnie looked up as Elliott opened his door and waved. He could see she was already starting to empty the large containers of stock she had prepared into the cauldron. That was always Marnie’s contribution to the soup – not only did she make the base, but she spent the entire day stirring it and making sure it was ready.

Elliott waved back and held up the package. “I’ve got a lovely tuna to add in,” he called across the beach.

Marnie gave him a thumb’s up and a smile. “Sounds great!” she called back. “Be sure to get that over here and get it in. The longer it cooks, the better it’ll taste!”

“I will!” Elliott called. He gave her another wave and stepped back inside, moving over to the kitchen. He had showered the night before, knowing he would need to be up and about in the morning. He pulled a cutting board out of one of the cabinets and a large knife from the cutlery drawer. He had thanked the tuna for its life when he had placed it in the refrigerator at Willy’s, and as he unwrapped it, he was pleased to see it still looked quite fresh.

Elliott began breaking down the tuna, first cutting it lengthwise and carefully moving through to pick out any bones. The last thing anyone wanted was the governor choking on a pinbone in his soup. As he worked, Elliott entered into a sort of meditative state. This year, the Luau felt very different. Last year had been his first Luau – he’d arrived in August the year prior and hadn’t known what to expect. He still felt like something of an outsider. He’d talked a bit to Harvey and Willy and spent much of the rest of the day in Leah’s company.

Now, it was different. Now he had more friends in town. There were more people he knew, who he talked with, and he felt like he was making more significant of a contribution to the hotpot. Pelican Town was home to him now. He couldn’t imagine leaving it.

Though he certainly could imagine some improvements to his living situation. He sighed slightly as he ran his fingers carefully over the tuna’s flesh, feeling for bones. The cabin really wasn’t fit for occupation. There were so many things that needed fixing. The walls were drafty, the water pressure pathetic, the kitchen hardly fit for cooking in, the bathroom was just barely an improvement on an outhouse and bathing with a garden hose. There were a large number of projects he wanted to do.

But the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of making a home out of the cabin. It was a good place. Not a great place, not hardly. But it had been his home for nearly two years now. No doubt it would be cheaper to purchase it outright from Pelican Town and then ask Robin to make upgrades as he was able to afford them. Much cheaper than building a new home outright. And there weren’t any other vacant properties in town. The only other one who was renting from the town was Leah, and her cabin was much nicer than his. It had been built sometime in the last ten years or so by some tourist who loved the valley, but who’d grown too old to make use of it, so she had sold it to the town. Leah was lucky, he knew, to have gotten the cabin in the woods.

But somehow, Elliott didn’t think he would have been as happy living in the woods as he was by the sea. He’d always loved the sea, ever since he was young. Marlbury, the city he’d grown up in, was right on the sea. Even in the downtown area and the affluent suburbs where Lady Anne’s estate was, he could always feel the sea breeze and smell the salt air. In summer, when school was out, he would frequently walk down to the beach, and walk on the boardwalk, and occasionally treat himself to an ice cream or some popcorn, and would sit and watch the gulls and the waves and listen to the joy of children splashing in the water.

Oddly, though summer was by far the most pleasant time to be at the seashore, Elliott found himself enjoying it in winter almost even more. The boardwalk was closed then, all the chip shops and ice cream parlors closed for the season, and he rarely ran into anyone else, only the occasional other strange soul who would walk the beach and feel the biting cold of the wind and watch the nearly colorless waves under the gray skies. The sense of isolation made Elliott feel as though he had the beach entirely to himself.

Sebastian also liked the cold, Elliott knew that. Maybe someday he would take Sebastian back to Pangolais. Maybe in the winter. They could spend the Feast of the Winter Star with mum and dad and he could take Sebastian to the beach and to his old school and show him all the places that he had around when he was growing up, all the places that helped to make him who he was. The thought cheered him. He wanted to share everything that was important to him with Sebastian.

Elliott finally satisfied himself that he had gotten all of the bones out of the fish, and he began breaking it down into manageable, bite-sized pieces. Tuna was a good fish to put in a soup. It held up well and took on flavor. He didn’t want the fish to be too large, to overtake anything. After he finished cutting the tuna into as even of pieces as he could manage, he put it onto a plate and washed up, cleaning the cutting board, the knife, and his hands. He dried off his hands on the nearby dishtowel and picked up the plate, stepping out.

The music had started up, and Elliott could see how Emily was already dancing herself into a frenzy. It made him smile. Emily always had such joie de vivre, such a zest for life. Gus had laid out the spread of food, and was moving from spot to spot, checking to make sure everything was right. Pam followed, ostensibly straightening out and arranging some of the food dishes, but also popping the occasional shrimp or slice of coconut cake into her mouth.

Elliott moved toward the cauldron that Marnie was stirring. He could see a few vegetables and some seafood inside and the smell was already inviting. His stomach gurgled amiably. He had purposefully eaten a light dinner the night before in anticipation of the feast that awaited him at the Luau.

Marnie smiled at him and leaned back, gesturing to the soup. “Go ahead, it’s all yours,” she said.

Elliott tilted the plate and made sure all the pieces of tuna slid inside. They dropped into the soup and Marnie resumed stirring, ensuring the soup was cooked evenly.

“It smells magnificent already,” Elliott said. “I can hardly wait to see how it ends up.”

“Fingers crossed,” Marnie said, smiling. “It should be ready in an hour or so, once everybody’s here and has had a chance to add something.”

Elliott looked up at the sky, shielding his eyes from the sun. It was already a hot day, and there were few clouds. He looked back down at Marnie. “If you need a breather, please let me know,” he said. “I’d be happy to take over stirring duties while you rested. You must be positively boiling.”

“That’s sweet of you to offer, but I’ve already got some relief lined up,” Marnie said. “And it isn’t too bad, with the breeze and the ocean nearby. And Gus always makes sure to bring me some punch. I’ll be just fine, you go have a good time.”

Elliott offered a slight bow to her. “As you wish, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me,” he said. Marnie chuckled and offered as much of a curtsey as she could muster.

Elliott moved back to his cabin and quickly rinsed off the plate the fish had been on, then washed his hands again. He moved out to the beach and sat by the shore. He looked around, watching as the town slowly filed in. Lewis had made it back, along with the governor, a portly man who came to town only once a year, on the day of the Luau. They stood in the back, near the beach entrance, and Lewis appeared to be offering some sort of report to the governor, who nodded disinterestedly. Shane was off to the side, watching Jas and making sure she didn’t get too close to the water. 

The Coopers arrived, Abigail looking a little sour and traipsing off to the pier. Elliott offered her a slight wave as she passed, but she didn’t seem to take much note of him. Pierre hovered near the tables, casting glances over to Lewis and the governor, while Caroline started to help herself to some food, keeping an eye on Pierre as she did. The Fischers were next, Vincent darting over to start playing with Jas, Sam following Abigail to the pier and Jodi moving over to chat with Caroline. Kent, who Elliott had once tried striking up a conversation with at the saloon but who seemed determined to answer any question with monosyllabic grunts, stood near the food tables, glancing back and forth.

Elliott turned around and looked out at the ocean, exhaling. Pelican Town was so peaceful. It was tucked carefully into the mountainside, and seemed to be almost as much a part of nature as the woods and sea and rivers that surrounded it. Mum and dad would have approved of how people here treated their surroundings. Robin only cut down trees for projects that she needed, never taking too much. Clint entered the mines for ore, taking out what was necessary to smelt bars and craft the occasional piece of jewelry, leaving the rest where it was. Willy was a talented fisherman, able to ply the seas but never casting his net too wide nor too deep, never getting greedy. The only blight on the town had been the old JojaMart, and now that it was gone, the air seemed a little clearer and cleaner, the waters didn’t have anywhere near the trash in them that Elliott had seen before. It was a good place. He was happy to live here.

As he looked out at the placid waters of the Gem Sea, beautiful and brilliant and blue under the summer sky, Elliott let out a sigh of contentment. He had left his overcoat and tie back in the cabin. He had left the top button and the sleeve buttons of his dress shirt undone, allowing the breeze to enter and cool him, while the white of the shirt reflected away the worst of the sun’s rays. The only thing that could have make the moment more perfect was if Sebastian had been there with him, nuzzled up next to him, resting his head on Elliott’s shoulder. Not for the first time, Elliott wished Sebastian had felt comfortable being open about their relationship.

“Lovely day.” Elliott looked up and smiled at Caroline.

“Indeed,” Elliott said. “Would you care to join me?” he asked, gesturing toward the sand next to him.

“Thank you,” Caroline replied, taking a seat and bunching up her long skirt so that she could settle into the sand. The wind picked up her small pigtails and they blew back slightly as she looked out at the ocean. “It couldn’t have been much more perfect weather for the Luau,” she said.

“Yes, it’s absolutely gorgeous,” Elliott said. He hadn’t spoken much with Caroline since he had arrived in Pelican Town and he was curious as to what made her come over to sit next to him. “And I appreciate the company,” he said, testing the waters.

Caroline turned and gave him a small smile. “You looked a little lonely over here,” she said.

“Not lonely, just admiring how beautiful the sea is,” Elliott said. “But I’m glad to have you here.”

Caroline smiled. “It truly is,” she said, looking out at the waters. “It almost makes me want to paint it. I used to dabble in watercolors when I was younger. This would be a beautiful seascape.”

“I never knew that,” Elliott said. “What made you stop?”

Caroline chuckled. “Getting married, having a daughter, trying to teach classes while raising a kid and helping out in the store,” she said. She glanced back to him. Her eyes were the same fern green as her hair, but Elliott could sense some sadness in them. “Hobbies go by the wayside a bit when you’re that busy,” she said.

“I suppose that’s true,” Elliott said. “Although if you’d like to pick it back up, I’m sure Leah would be happy to give you a lesson or two. She’s not just talented in woodwork, she’s also quite a painter. I have one of her paintings in my cabin.”

“The small emerald, right?” Caroline asked. “I remember seeing that at her art show. I almost picked it up myself, it’s a beautiful piece. But I ended up going with the painting she did of the pond by Marnie’s ranch. The one with the woods and the view of the ocean, and that strange tower off to the side. It’s in our dining room now.”

They were quiet for a moment. “Forgive me for being bold, but I can’t help but notice you didn’t say whether you’d like to pick up painting again or not,” Elliott said.

Caroline chuckled. “Ah, I think too much time has passed,” she said. Her gaze went back to the ocean. “Besides that, we’ve got a lot of new business in the store. We’re open seven days a week now. I keep telling Pierre that we should hire on someone part-time, maybe Sam or Shane, but he’s nervous. He wants to make sure we build up a rainy-day fund. Understandably so. We’re finally making some money again and he wants to sock as much of it away as possible.”

“But what do you want?” Elliott asked.

Caroline paused. From the hesitant look in her eyes, Elliott had the feeling that was a question she either hadn’t been asked or hadn’t considered in a long while. She turned and looked back out to the ocean, one pigtail remaining over the front of her shoulder as she did, the other traipsing down her back.

“I suppose I just want my family to be happy,” she said, not really to him or to herself, but to the breeze, as though it could carry her thoughts to Yoba.

“Are they not?” Elliott asked.

Caroline exhaled, a smile bereft of amusement on her face. “Abby is… well, she’s been fifteen for the last eight years,” she said wryly. “She keeps wanting us to treat her more like an adult, but she’s never held a job, we pay for everything, her school, her phone. And Pierre is worried all the time about the store. I can’t blame him for that. We had some very lean times when JojaMart was open. Some months we weren’t sure if we’d be able to keep the store. We thought about what we could do to start over. About selling the house and moving to Grampleton, maybe Pierre getting a job as a manager in a supermarket there or something. And I could keep teaching aerobics. There’s never a shortage of people who want to take aerobics. Even Doctor Harvey shows up once in a while.”

Elliott couldn’t help chuckling at the image of Harvey, glasses fogged and hair pulled back with a sweatband, trying to keep up with Caroline’s step class. Caroline was quiet, her gaze looking out at the ocean. Elliott couldn’t help but notice she seemed somewhat bird-like, with her frail shoulders and slender neck, and the green hair – no roots showing, she must have dyed it regularly – framing her cheekbones almost like feathers.

“It’s not a crime to want to take some time for yourself,” he said gently. Caroline glanced back at him. He exhaled. “Before I moved here, I – well, I was going to school, but I was also in a rather unhappy relationship,” he said. “My ex took care of me, but he stifled me quite a bit. He didn’t want to hear about me writing or… doing anything, really, that he wasn’t immediately involved with. I just existed. I just went from one day to the next, without any real hope for the future. Until I got my book contract. And that gave me the freedom to actually do what I wanted. I’m sure the store won’t fall apart if you take a few hours every now and again to pick up an old hobby or take a walk or go read something at the library.”

Caroline’s face softened as he spoke. “I suppose not,” she said. She let out a long breath. “I’m glad you got away from your ex. He sounds like a very unhappy person.”

“He was,” Elliott said. “And he made me unhappy without me even realizing he was doing so. I’m… much better off now. Not saying that you should divorce Pierre, of course.” Caroline laughed, a genuine chortle. “But perhaps you could talk to him about some of the things you’d like to do? It sounds like you’ve supported his dream for quite a while.”

“I have,” Caroline said. “I’m glad to do it. But…” she nodded. “I think it would help to have something else to do.” She glanced back in the direction of the party and groaned. “You’ll have to excuse me,” she said, standing. “I need to go extract my husband from the poor governor.”

“Of course,” Elliott chuckled. “Be well, Caroline.”

“I will,” she said. She smiled at him. “Thank you, Elliott.” And with that, she began to traipse back across the sand.

Elliott’s gaze scanned the beach. Most of the town seemed to be there. Linus was working on rotating a roast over a fire, with Maru and Harvey nearby, eagerly eyeing it. Robin and Demetrius were dancing near the speakers, being sure to give Emily a wide berth as she gyrated and spun. Alex balanced a few plates of food as he brought them over to his grandparents, Evelyn sitting on one of the chairs next to George in his wheelchair. Penny and Jodi were chatting pleasantly, soft smiles on both their faces.

As Elliott scanned the party, his brow furrowed slightly. He didn’t see a figure dressed all in black, or that raven hair that he’d come to know and feel as he stroked it gently. Sebastian’s family was all here, but he didn’t see Sebastian. Elliott stood and brushed sand off his pants, starting to move into the party and eyes scanning left and right.

A hand caught his sleeve and he turned. Leah stood there, a glass of punch in one hand and a knowing smile on her lips. “He’s on the pier,” she said, voice just shy of sing-songing.

Elliott exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Thank you, Leah,” he said quietly.

“Go on,” she nudged. “And then come back and tell me all about it.”

Elliott chuckled and turned around. When he saw Sebastian, his heart beat a little faster. Sebastian was leaning against the dock railing, gazing out at the ocean, smoking a cigarette. He looked almost exactly the same as he had the night Elliott had come out with his umbrella, had spoken to Sebastian, had invited him in, and had gotten to know him as a person. Suddenly, the joy of the last few months flashed in front of Elliott. If Sebastian hadn’t gone out that night, if Elliott hadn’t heard him, hadn’t gone out to speak with him – the idea of Sebastian not being part of his life seemed so impossible now, but there were so many things that could have made it go astray.

Elliott walked the short distance to the pier and stepped onto the wooden dock, moving toward Sebastian. He could see Sam and Abigail chatting a short distance away. He looked at Sebastian and said, “Happy Luau.”

Sebastian turned and his eyes lit up in a way that made Elliott’s heart sang. He exhaled the last breath of smoke and stubbed out his cigarette, quickly snuffing the cherry. “Hey,” he said, smiling. “Where’ve you been? I didn’t see you.”

“I was down by the seashore, chatting with Caroline for a bit,” Elliott said. “I might have been tucked away.”

At the mention of Caroline, Sebastian’s mouth went flat. “My condolences,” he said dryly.

“You don’t care much for Caroline?” Elliott asked, glancing back to where Abigail leaned on the railing, talking to Sam.

“She doesn’t care for me,” Sebastian said. “I’m _a bad influence._ ”

Elliott furrowed his brow. From his conversation with Caroline, he could tell she didn’t have any illusions of Abigail being a perfect angel. He wondered how much of Sebastian’s impressions of how Caroline felt about him were accurate and how much were based on him always assuming others thought the worst of him.

“Well, I’m getting to be rather peckish,” Elliott said, doing his best to change the subject. “Would you care to join me for a meal?”

Sebastian’s eyes softened and his smile – the real smile, the one that Elliott always had to work for, but cherished more than anything else when he saw it – returned. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, I would.”

“Then lead on,” Elliott said, gesturing for Sebastian to move. Sebastian picked up the bag he had brought with him, with his toothbrush and toothpaste and deodorant and a change of clothes, and slung it over his shoulder. As they walked down toward the tables, Sebastian glanced around, making sure nobody was too close to hear. Then he leaned in.

“So, I actually did see you down there, talking to Caroline,” he said quietly. “But with your hair up and without your coat on, I, um… I thought you were Leah.”

Elliott snorted.

~~~

Nobody was sure what made the food at the Luau taste so good. Gus was a very talented chef, of course, that went without saying. But it was also the setting – the warm sun, the refreshing breeze, the slight bite of the salt air, the soup that everybody in town had contributed something toward (this year, allegedly one of the best the governor had ever had), the drinking punch or sparkling peach wine that somehow always tasted better on the beach – that made it all seem special.

Elliott and Sebastian had eaten together, talking quietly about their plans for the evening until they were joined by Becca and Harvey. Becca, as usual, carried the entire conversation herself, but Harvey managed to get a few comments in, smiling at Becca almost the entire while. At one point, Sebastian would have sworn that Harvey glanced between Elliott and himself with a bit of a knowing smile. Thankfully, he hadn’t said anything.

The food had been delicious. Gus always had Linus help him prepare the roast on the day of the Luau, but there were also side dishes and desserts Gus had provided – and, of course, the soup that Marnie had spent all day stirring, tending to it with all the care she showed a newborn calf. Sebastian had taken a slice of the roast, a split roasted sweet potato with butter, macaroni salad, grilled shrimp, and a slice of the coconut cake. And a bowl of soup. He had to admit the soup was particularly good this year. A lot better than the year Sam had dumped a pound of anchovies in. Everyone who braved a bowl of that salt bomb had made a mad dash for the punch bowl and didn’t stop drinking punch until it was all gone.

After they’d eaten, Sebastian had gone back to talk with Sam and Abby, who both seemed more interested in avoiding the crowd than eating too much. Sam had a lot of ideas for the next show the band would be playing and Abby was so relieved to be done with her semester and moving on to take upper-division courses that wouldn’t make her want to snatch her own eyeballs out from boredom that they carried the conversation and Sebastian didn’t have to contribute too much. It was the way he liked it.

As the sun started to dip low in the sky, bathing the beach in orange and red and pink light, Sebastian watched the party start to break up. Everyone had clearly eaten their fill, and Gus was encouraging everyone to take a plate to go as they left. He felt his heart pound in his chest. It wouldn’t be that much longer until he and Elliott were alone. When they could be by themselves and he could have Elliott again, all to himself.

He looked back to the beach. Maru and Demetrius were already gone, but mom was still there, talking to Marnie. He figured he should at least say goodnight to her. He pushed himself up and moved toward the beach, the sand crunching quietly under his boots as he moved. Robin and Marnie stopped their conversation as he approached and both smiled at him.

“Are you heading out soon?” Sebastian asked.

“In a minute,” Robin said. “How about you?”

“Yeah, same,” he said. “I’ll just walk to Sam’s from here. It’s only a few minutes.”

“All right, have fun,” Robin said.

Sebastian turned to Marnie. “Hey, uh, thanks for the soup, Marnie. It was really great,” he said.

Marnie’s smile widened and she reached out, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Well, I can hardly take credit for all of it,” she said, “but thank you, Sebastian, that’s very sweet.”

“It would have burned like crazy if you weren’t stirring it and checking it all the time, and we all know it,” Robin said. Her eyes were soft. Sebastian knew his and Marnie’s friendship was a strange one, but Marnie had always had a soft spot for him, since shortly after they moved to town and she showed up with some casseroles for them. He didn’t know if it was because Marnie saw some of Shane in him or what, but it was nice to have at least one adult in town who didn’t think he was a complete fuck-up.

Sebastian gave Robin a quick hug and moved away, heading back to the dock. As he went, he paused, looking over at the shoreline. Elliott sat there, talking with Leah. He had released his hair from the loose bun he’d had it in earlier and some wisps caught in the wind. The glow of the setting sun, the loose white shirt he was wearing, and the auburn strands around him made Elliott look so handsome Sebastian almost felt like he was going to pass out. Elliott was always handsome, he always looked amazing, but every once in a while, it struck Sebastian just how gorgeous Elliott truly was. His lungs and heart squeezed and he found himself unable to break his gaze.

“Earth to Sebastian.” He startled and looked over to Abigail. She was standing a couple of steps away from him on the dock and she craned her head, following his gaze. A knowing smirk came to her mouth and she turned back. “Caught you staring,” she said.

“I – I wasn’t.” He could feel the stammering start, could feel his tongue moving faster than his brain. Abigail laughed and punched his arm.

“You’re too easy, Seb,” she said. “And I can’t blame you. They’re both hot.”

Sebastian swallowed. Despite the heat of the day, he suddenly felt very cold.

Abigail glanced up and down, seeming to notice something off. If she did, she didn’t say anything. “We’re gonna go over by the woods, toke up. You want to come?” she asked. It was the way they had ended the Luau last year – stumbling through the dark toward the edge of the woods, not far from the southernmost edge of Becca’s ranch. They’d sat in a circle, passing the joint back and forth, laughing at some of the stupider things they had seen. Including, Sebastian suddenly remembered with a guilty pang in his stomach, that Elliott had looked so overheated but insisted on still wearing his large coat. The thought of having made fun of Elliott, especially since Elliott was trying to keep his skin hidden, shamed him.

Sebastian swallowed. “Nah, I’m pretty bushed, I think I’m gonna call it an early night,” he said. “You guys have fun. See you Saturday?”

“Yeah, man, see you then,” Sam said, holding up his hand for a high-five. Sebastian obliged and Abby gave him a hug, then they were on their way along the beach toward the steps leading into town. Sebastian scanned the beach. Mom had gone – that was good, he didn’t want to explain why he wasn’t leaving with Sam – and it looked like most everybody else was gone or getting ready to leave. Gus and Emily were moving from table to table, picking up the tablecloths that belonged to the saloon. Leah and Elliott seemed to still be talking.

Sebastian watched as Gus and Emily finished gathering up the cloths and then moved toward the stairs. He sat down on the pier, letting his legs drift over the sides of the dock. After a few minutes, Leah and Elliott stood and he walked with her toward the stairs up into town. She said something that made him laugh, and then they shared a hug. Sebastian crouched down, feeling somewhat guilty for watching. _They’d think I’m such a creep._ Leah and Elliott parted and he watched as she climbed the stairs, then walked over the bridge.

Elliott turned and looked back in his direction. Sebastian stood, slowly, looking at him. Their gaze locked and for a brief, terrible moment, the distance between them seemed so much more than it actually was. Sebastian stepped from the pier and started making his way carefully across the sand. Elliott similarly began moving across the sand, closing the distance as quickly as he dared.

As they met halfway between each other, Elliott immediately wrapped his arms around Sebastian and leaned in, pressing his lips to Sebastian’s and letting out a moan of contentment. A noise of desire bubbled up from Sebastian’s throat and he clutched at Elliott’s back, feeling weak in the knees as he kissed back. Yoba, he had missed this. It had only been five days since he had last seen, felt, kissed Elliott, but he had felt every one of those days. The longer he was away from Elliott, the worse the ache in his chest got. The harder the rush of joy and desire and lust hit him when he was able to be with Elliott again. He felt himself stirring in his jeans as Elliott pulled him in close, tucking him into Elliott’s arms and enfolding him.

Some part of Sebastian was aware that anybody could walk onto the beach now and see them. Anybody could show up. But that part was silenced by the fireworks going off in his blood, by the feeling of Elliott’s lips against his own, by the pounding of his heart at the speed of a hummingbird’s wings.

And then Elliott broke their kiss, hands still placed on the sides of Sebastian’s face. Low, and quiet, he murmured, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Sebastian said, opening his eyes and looking into Elliott’s. In the warm, fading light of day, Elliott’s white shirt looked almost pink and his eyes shone with desire. “I missed you every day. Every day, I wanted to come down here and see you and kiss you and…” he trailed off, kissing Elliott once more.

Elliott moaned into Sebastian’s mouth. He moved one hand behind Sebastian’s neck, cradling it and his head as he continued to kiss Sebastian. Sebastian could feel the heat rising through him. And it made the stickiness of his body, of his chest and his groin and his back, feel even worse. He stifled a shudder. He couldn’t imagine sliding into Elliott’s clean sheets, pressing against his body when he was like this. And so, reluctantly, he broke from Elliott’s mouth.

“I’m so gross,” he mumbled. “I’m so sweaty. I’m an idiot, I just… I always wear black, even though I know it’s going to be hot.”

“It’s all right,” Elliott murmured. Sebastian opened his eyes and saw Elliott smiling at him with all the warmth and comfort that he’d come to know from his lover. “It’s all right, darling,” he said. “If you’d like, you can freshen up. We don’t have to jump right into bed.”

Sebastian nodded, eagerly. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good,” he said. Elliott pulled back from him, smiling and taking his hand.

“Shall we?” he asked.

“Lead on,” Sebastian said with a smile. Elliott began walking back toward his cabin, his fingers intertwined with Sebastian’s. The act, as simple as it was, felt so intimate. Sebastian had grown to crave the feeling of sliding his fingers in between Elliott’s, of hardly knowing where his hand ended and Elliott’s began. 

Elliott reached the door to the cabin and opened it, turning on the light as they stepped inside. “Right this way,” he said, moving toward the bathroom. Sebastian carried his bag with him.

_I’ll need to change. No point in putting my sweaty clothes back on._

Elliott stepped into the bathroom and turned the light inside on. There were no windows in the bathroom, so it was always dark without the light. “It’s fairly simple, but the water pressure’s awful, as you know,” Elliott said. He reached into the shower and pulled the knob from the wall. A sad trickle of water, barely enough to be called a shower, came from the showerhead. Elliott gave Sebastian an apologetic glance.

“Take your time,” he said. “And feel free to use shampoo or whatever else you like. Make yourself at home.” He leaned into Sebastian and kissed his temple, then his jaw, then right under his ear, the spot that made Sebastian shiver. Then Elliott moved his lips to Sebastian’s ear and murmured, “Don’t feel like you have to rush. We have all night.”

Sebastian shivered again as Elliott pulled back, smiling. He stepped out, closing the door to give Sebastian some privacy. Sebastian pulled his clothing off, then checked the temperature of the water. The pressure was terrible, but at least the water heater worked. He couldn’t imagine how miserable Elliott would be if he had to live here in winter and wouldn’t even be able to take a hot shower.

Sebastian adjusted the temperature on the water slightly, and when he was satisfied, he stepped into the shower, letting the water start to rinse the sweat from him. It took much longer than he was used to in his own shower, and he had to keep rotating himself so that the pitiful amount of water coming from the showerhead could get to every part of him.

_He’s really got to get mom out here._

As Sebastian let the water trickle over him, he turned his attention to the shower caddy hanging from the showerhead. There was Elliott’s shampoo and conditioner, and his bottle of body wash, the one he had bought in Zuzu City when they were there. Curiosity suddenly got the best of Sebastian and he picked up the bottle of shampoo, opening it and bringing it to his nose. As soon as he smelled it, he almost felt like he might fall down in the shower. It was one of the scents that brought back memories of Elliott. The same smell that nearly surrounded him when they were lying together and he could practically curl up in Elliott’s hair.

“Fuck,” he whispered. He could feel himself stirring already. He didn’t really need to shampoo, he just needed to clean himself. He pressed the lid back down and set it on the shower caddy, then squeezed a small amount of body wash into his hand. He didn’t want to take too much. It was pricey, and he knew how Elliott needed this to help keep his skin as stable as possible. Sebastian began lathering it up in his hands and when he was satisfied, he stepped out from under the spray to begin cleaning his body.

The second he did so, the smell of sandalwood struck him and he had to put one of his hands against the shower wall to keep from falling over. This was it – along with Elliott’s cologne, this was one of the smells that had impacted him so heavily from the sweatshirt, one of the things that made him most aware of his desire for Elliott. Sebastian let out a whimper as he breathed in the smell of Elliott all around him. The steam from the shower, the smell surrounding him completely, and his own desire made him completely hard.

 _Fuck. Fuck, I need to get out of here and get with him_ now.

Sebastian finished lathering himself up and stood under the shower spray again, feeling acute relief as it cleansed him, rinsing the body wash and sweat from his body. As soon as he was satisfied that he was clean, he shut the water off and reached for the towel that he had seen folded on the vanity. He pulled the towel into the shower with him and began drying himself. When he felt himself suitably dry – his hair was still damp, but that wasn’t the end of the world – he stepped out of the shower, draped the towel over the shower bar, and eagerly stepped back into the cabin.

It was empty. Sebastian furrowed his brow. “Elliott?” he asked, feeling slightly foolish asking the empty cabin. Still nothing. He stepped back into the bathroom and pulled his clean clothes on – a t-shirt from the Grampleton Music Festival, some boxer shorts, a clean pair of black pants – and returned to the cabin. He looked around again. No sign of Elliott. He moved to the door and opened it, looking out on the beach.

Elliott was on his knees on the beach, reaching down and picking up some refuse that had been left from the Luau. Next to him was a large black trash bag. He looked up as he heard the door open and offered Sebastian a smile.

“You were faster than I thought. Be just a minute,” Elliott said.

“What are you doing?” Sebastian asked.

Elliott held up the bag. “Collecting trash,” he said.

“I –” Sebastian bit back the retort he wanted to make. “I figured that,” he said, in a milder tone than he initially was working toward. “ _Why_ are you collecting trash?”

“Because nobody else will be back here until morning,” Elliott said simply. “There’s still a good bit to pick up, and if it blows into the sea, it could hurt some of the marine life if they try to eat it. Last year, Willy and Marnie were the only ones who stayed behind to clean up after the party was over. I told them I would take care of it, that they’d already done enough to set things up. And this year, I volunteered to do the cleanup myself.”

Sebastian felt a hot wave of guilt crash over him. He hadn’t thought about how much was left out after the Luau – after any of the festivals in town, really. He glanced around the beach. There were clearly plates and wadded napkins and cutlery and pieces of food that had fallen into the sand. It was gross. The whole idea that they had just partied on the beach and left everything behind from a festival that was supposed to be celebrating the beach and the summer was really fucking gross. The guilt was replaced with shame and he cleared his throat.

“I’ll, uh,” he began. “I’ll help. Do you have another bag?”

Elliott smiled. “In the kitchen,” he said.

Working together, Sebastian and Elliott combed the beach, looking for anything that could be picked up and kept from blowing into the ocean. It wasn’t hard work, just slightly tedious. Sebastian found himself thinking back to all of the festivals, how many of them had food and trash left behind, and wondering who had taken it upon him or herself to help clean up. It didn’t surprise him to hear that Marnie and Willy had taken that job. Marnie was always trying to help other people out where she could, and Willy wasn’t about to let anything happen to the ocean.

After twenty minutes or so, Sebastian and Elliott had each filled a bag with assorted refuse from the Luau, and Elliott let out a satisfied breath. “I’d say that’s a job well done,” he said, standing up. Sebastian looked around the beach. It did look a lot better than when they started, he had to admit. He stood as well, moving back to the cabin with Elliott.

“I wish you’d let me know you were going to do that,” he said. “I would have helped right away. You don’t have to take those sort of things on by yourself.”

Elliott set the bag of trash down on his porch and turned to Sebastian, smiling. “You were in the shower,” he said. “I figured I could at least get started on it, but you were much quicker than I am. I always forget not everybody needs a solid hour to do his hair.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but couldn’t keep the smile on his face. He set his bag of trash down and pulled the drawstring tight. “I’m definitely washing my hands when I get back in, though,” he said.

“Oh, yes,” Elliott said. “Actually, do you mind terribly if I pop in the shower quickly? I need to freshen up a bit myself.”

“It’s your house, knock yourself out,” Sebastian said as they moved back inside. He waited until Elliott closed the door and then leaned against the wall. “Just, uh… don’t take too long,” he said, smiling in what he hoped was a saucy way. “I want to have you all to myself, all night.”

Elliott turned to Sebastian. He reached out, then paused as he realized what he had just been doing with his hands. Instead, he let out a slight growl from the back of his throat. “Won’t be a minute,” he said. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Sebastian’s quickly, then hurried over to the bathroom.

Sebastian moved into the kitchen, turning on the sink. He wanted to wash up quickly, before Elliott got into the shower. With how awful the water pressure was, he was sure there would be hardly any water coming out at all if the sink were going at the same time. He rinsed his hands, turned the tap off and pushed down on the soap dispenser. The soap that came out foamed and lathered nicely, and it smelled of lemongrass. It was much nicer than any of the basic hand soaps Sebastian had ever picked out for himself, ones he found on the bottom shelf at Pierre’s. He had seen this kind of soap there, but never bothered with any of them.

Sebastian scrubbed at his hands, enjoying the aroma as he did. Elliott always had nice things in his place. Not nice in the expensive sense, but just pleasant to have around. Even if he wasn’t wealthy, Elliott managed to find things that brought small bits of joy to himself. The piano, this soap, the quilt on his bed. He always seemed able to find happiness for himself.

_Maybe he can teach me how to do that._

Sebastian rinsed his hands off and turned off the tap just in time to hear the shower start up. He moved over to the bed, shucking off his pants and socks and folding them up. He crawled into bed, listening to the noise coming from the shower, of Elliott moving through the spray and humming something to himself. The thought of Elliott being naked and wet and so close made Sebastian shiver. He brought his hand under his shirt and ran his fingers over his stomach. Only a little longer and Elliott would be here, doing this to him.

Fuck it. Sebastian pulled off his shirt and placed it near his other clothes. He let his hands run over his body, feeling the shiver of goosebumps his fingers left in their wake. He brought one hand up to his nipple, taking it between his thumb and forefinger and rubbing it, pulling on it, even pinching it slightly. He had never played with his nipples before Elliott had shown him how they could feel, and now he always paid attention to them when he touched himself.

With his other hand, Sebastian reached down and placed a hand on the exterior of his boxers, running along his stiffness. _Fuck._ He needed Elliott. He needed him so bad. It had been a couple of weeks since they had last slept together, and every day that passed without him feeling Elliott’s body against his made the ache that much worse.

The shower stopped and Sebastian’s heart began to race faster. He heard the sound of the shower rings pulling back, of Elliott stepping out and the rustle of a towel. He knew Elliott wouldn’t be drying his hair, he couldn’t possibly have washed it that quickly. The one time he had paid attention to the entirety of Elliott’s hair routine, he had been completely flabbergasted. Listening closely, Sebastian heard the sound of Elliott’s lotion opening and the smooth noise of Elliott rubbing it into his skin. And then the rustle of clothes as Elliott dressed himself once more.

Elliott emerged from the bathroom clad only in his boxers and his undershirt. When he turned and saw Sebastian already in bed, feeling himself and looking like he had never desired anything more, he froze. He felt a flush of lust pass through him. Quickly, he closed the door to the bathroom and crossed to the bed, climbing in on top of Sebastian and pressing his lips against Sebastian’s desperately.

Sebastian moaned into Elliott’s mouth and wrapped his arms around Elliott’s back. Elliott’s arms came under his, and they tasted each other, savoring the moment of connection, the anticipation of what was coming next.

Elliott brought his hand down, slipping it inside of Sebastian’s shorts and encircling him. Sebastian pulled back from Elliott’s mouth and took in a hiss through his teeth as Elliott began stroking him.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“Like this?” Elliott asked, his own voice quiet.

“Just like that,” Sebastian moaned. “Fuck. Fuck, Elliott, it’s so good.”

Sebastian held onto Elliott’s back as Elliott gently pulled him from his boxers and stroked him to his full length, the hormones coursing through him making him feel like his soul was coming to life. He whimpered, unable to keep the noises from sounding as Elliott worked him over slowly, not so much teasing him as drawing out the pleasure, making it last longer.

When Sebastian had masturbated before, he had always focused on getting to his release as quickly as he could. He had never drawn it out, had never let it last for a while. But when Elliott showed him the joy of prolonging the sensations, of delaying the release just to make it all the sweeter in the end, he had found himself becoming more attuned to how his body felt, about what brought him tiny sparks or jolts of pleasure, and what made his desire inflame, what would bring him to his completion.

Now, Elliott was stoking that fire. He was carefully, deliberately stroking Sebastian, watching his face with an artist’s intent. Elliott was as much an artist when it came to lovemaking as he was with words and ink on the page. In both media, he knew how to pull emotion from Sebastian, how to make him feel overcome, how to stoke his passions and his pleasures and his desires to a fever pitch, and then to give just the slightest, most delicate push that would send Sebastian crashing through his release and leave him trembling and desiring more.

Sebastian was only marginally aware of how Elliott slid his boxers off of him, leaving him completely nude on the bed. He moaned and arched his hips as Elliott squeezed just below the head, keeping the blood in his head long enough to make it throb with a glorious heat, and then Elliott released his hold and Sebastian gasped to feel the rush of blood through his member.

“I need…” he moaned.

“What, darling?” Elliott asked. “What do you need?”

“You,” Sebastian got out, opening his eyes, He reached for Elliott’s boxers, which he was already straining at. Elliott took in a slight breath and pulled back, removing his hands from Sebastian. As he always did, he pulled his boxers off first, freeing himself. Sebastian had learned to look up at Elliott’s face, to lock eyes with him, to give him the reassurance that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere, before Elliott got the courage to pull off his undershirt.

As always, the skin was red, the eczema slightly inflamed. But Sebastian had come to find it as beautiful as the rest of Elliott. It was a part of him. It felt right against him, the way Elliott’s body fit against him so perfectly. The slight scratch of Elliott’s skin no longer felt strange in the way it had when they had first slept together. If anything, it comforted Sebastian to feel Elliott against him.

Sebastian moved around on the bed so that he was underneath Elliott and brought his mouth to Elliott’s member, eagerly taking it into himself and beginning to suckle on it. Elliott moaned at the sensation and placed his hands on the bed.

“Darling,” he whispered. “Sebastian. It feels so good. You’re… you have a gift for this, darling. I can’t remember this ever feeling better.”

The praise made Sebastian moan around Elliott, taking him further in. He found that the more he practiced on Elliott, the easier it was to take more of him into his mouth. Even into the start of his throat. He couldn’t take it all in, that was too much. His gag reflex wouldn’t let him, especially like this, on his back. But he took as much of Elliott as he could, running his tongue around Elliott’s head on the backstrokes and then driving down to take Elliott into him again.

Elliott let out a low groan of desire and moved his own mouth to Sebastian’s length, starting first to suck on the head and then down further onto the shaft. Time fell away for the two lovers as each took the other into his mouth, creating a feedback loop of pleasure and desire. The cabin was quiet, aside from the soft, muffled moans, the sounds of mouths moving, of flesh surrounded by warmth and wet, of the desire they shared slowly building and building and building.

Sebastian could have lain under Elliott for the rest of his life. Elliott sucking him felt wonderful, it always did, but there was something that just felt _right_ about taking Elliott into his mouth, about giving him pleasure like he could. Sebastian still wasn’t sure he was that great at penetrative sex – it never felt like he could last as long as he wanted to, though he was getting better at holding off – but he knew from the way Elliott groaned deeply and clenched his fingers in Sebastian’s hair and tossed his head from side to side that he was good at this.

Sebastian moved his hands around to grip onto Elliott’s cheeks, pulling him closer. Elliott groaned and leaned his hips down, starting to pump slightly in and out of Sebastian’s mouth. The motion gave Sebastian an even deeper desire to take Elliott into him. He began actively sucking on Elliott, which made Elliott toss his head back and cry out.

“Darling – ahhh – Sebastian… Sebastian, I won’t last if you keep that up,” Elliott moaned. He could feel the heat starting to course in his blood. “Sebastian, please… please, I want – I want to – please –”

Sebastian knew what Elliott wanted, and he didn’t want this to be over just yet. They would be able to keep going later, but he wasn’t going to force Elliott to end this early. Reluctantly, he pulled off of Elliott’s length, but not before licking the sensitive underside of the head. Elliott hissed in a breath.

“You bloody tease,” he said, voice raw with desire. Sebastian looked up to see Elliott’s face, framed by his hair falling all around his head and chest and shoulders. The overhead light was illuminating his hair just enough to where it lit up his features. Like this, Elliott looked like a divine being, something that Yoba itself had created and had a personal hand in. Nothing else could be so gorgeous and perfect.

Sebastian reached up, his fingertips barely brushing Elliott’s face, as though he couldn’t believe Elliott were really here. Elliott seemed to realize the look on Sebastian’s face and his brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Sebastian said, his voice soft and reverent. “You’re just… you’re so beautiful. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life. I don’t… I don’t know how I got this lucky. I’m nothing. And you’re…”

Elliott carefully adjusted himself so that he and Sebastian were face to face. He braced himself on the bed with his shins and leaned down, taking Sebastian’s face in his hands and kissing his lover deeply. Sebastian moaned into Elliott’s mouth. When Elliott pulled off, he kept his face just a few inches from Sebastian’s. His eyes were more serious than Sebastian remembered seeing them.

“You are _not_ nothing,” he said with vehement emphasis. “You are the most important thing in my life. You are… you’re my muse. You’re my inspiration. I can write because you inspire me to do so. Your touch makes my heart sing and my blood race and my breath catch. I think of you every single day and dream of you every single night. Whenever you’re not here, I long for you. You are everything to me. You are the sun and the moon and all the stars in the sky. I feel myself borne along on you like flotsam atop the ocean. You keep me afloat, and support me, and keep me from sinking into my doubts and my fears. You have brought me back to life, Sebastian David Larsson. You are _not_ and _never will be_ nothing to me.”

Sebastian felt his eyes sting as Elliott spoke to him so beautifully. He swallowed, but was unable to clear the lump in his throat. There were so many things he wanted to say in response, but he couldn’t make his mouth work. He opened it a few times, trying to get the words out, but eventually all he could manage to do was lean up and kiss Elliott once more. Elliott kissed him back, holding his face and pressing against him. Sebastian couldn’t understand how he could want to be inside Elliott so badly and also want nothing more than to just lie here and keep kissing him and being held by him at the same time.

Eventually, Elliott broke away from their kiss and leaned his forehead against Sebastian’s. “Make love to me, please,” he whispered. “Please. I need you so badly.”

Sebastian nodded, the words that he wanted to say sinking back down inside of him. _You’re a coward. He can speak to you so beautifully and make you feel so good, and you can’t do the same for him._

Elliott moved back on the bed, reaching into his bedstand. He pulled out the bottle of lubricant and squeezed some into his hand. He lay back against the pillow, closing his eyes. He began to rub at his opening and slowly worked his fingers inside. As it always did, the sight of Elliott working himself open, preparing himself, made Sebastian even harder than before, and he began to stroke himself as he watched.

A few quiet noises of pleasure came from the back of Elliott’s throat. Sebastian’s mouth felt dry. _I want you. I want you so bad._ But now, there was another thought that emerged. He cleared his throat. “Elliott?” he asked.

Elliott opened his eyes, meeting Sebastian’s gaze. “Yes, darling?” he asked.

“How…” Sebastian began. He cleared his throat, trying to rid it of some of the frogginess. “What does it feel like to be the one who’s… you know, who’s receiving?”

Elliott paused in his self-ministrations. He seemed to be thinking of how best to explain it. Eventually, he spoke, slowly but deliberately. “At first, it admittedly isn’t very pleasant,” he said. “The first time, it does hurt. No matter how slow you go, no matter how much you think you’ve prepared. The second time, it will also hurt a bit, though not as much. But after that, when you’ve become more used to the feeling, there’s a beautiful warmth that starts to spread out into you. It’s a sensation that radiates through you, into your very being. It’s – it is very different than being the one who’s on top. Not better or worse, just different. It’s a different kind of physical pleasure. And there’s also the pleasure that comes from knowing the one who you care so much for is inside of you, that he’s giving you these feelings. It is… incredibly beautiful.”

Sebastian swallowed again. “Do you… only like to – have it done to you?” he asked.

Elliott smiled. “No, I enjoy both,” he said. “Why, are you thinking you might want to try?”

Sebastian nodded, slowly and hesitantly. “Not – not tonight, I don’t think,” he said. “But… maybe soon?”

Elliott smiled at him with such warmth and happiness that Sebastian wasn’t sure he could handle it. Looking directly at Elliott when he beamed like this was like looking directly at the sun. He was almost blinded. “Whenever you feel ready,” Elliott said, “just let me know. We’ll go very slowly, very deliberately. I’ll make it as easy on you as I can. And when you start to feel that warmth and friction, you’ll know what I’m talking about.”

Sebastian nodded, eagerly. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Elliott turned back to preparing himself and closed his eyes as he continued working himself open. A few more moans escaped him and Sebastian stroked himself wordlessly, almost more turned on by the sight before him than he was the physical sensation of touching himself. A slight bead of fluid emerged from his head.

Elliott finally seemed satisfied with preparing himself and opened his eyes, picking up and holding out the container of lubricant. Sebastian eagerly took it, squeezing some into his hand and stroking himself, letting out a slight moan at the slickness around him.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Elliott said. He reached back behind himself and propped up the pillow so he could keep his head and shoulders and upper back against the headboard. Sebastian moved between his legs and put his hands under Elliott’s knees, lifting them up. He brought his hand down to his length and moved it carefully. When he thought back to how awkward this had felt the first time, it almost made him laugh. Now, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to be seeking out Elliott like this, to be pressing forward, to feel the slight give and –

_Oh, Yoba._

Just like every other time he sank into Elliott, Sebastian couldn’t help letting out a groan while a simultaneous shudder of desire wracked him. The pose Elliott was in now, propped up, allowed him to easily lean forward and kiss Elliott. Elliott wrapped his legs around Sebastian’s waist, keeping him inside and likewise moaning into Sebastian’s mouth.

Sebastian pulled away just slightly from Elliott’s lips. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Do it,” Elliott whispered.

Sebastian began to rock his hips, keeping his mouth against Elliott’s all the while. Their tongues sought each other and intertwined, sharing in the intimacy that the rest of their bodies were feeling. Elliott was so warm and so tight and so _good_ around him, Yoba, it was like Elliott was made for him to fit with. Sebastian felt sweat start to break out on his forehead as he pulled back and then pushed inside of Elliott. Elliott’s arms were around his back, his hands seeking every part of Sebastian. His legs, loosely wrapped around Sebastian’s waist, kept him close, but also gave him just enough freedom to move as he wanted.

Sebastian tried to keep as steady a pace as he could. He found it easier to hold back when he managed the pace, when he wasn’t pumping frantically, sinking so quickly into the feeling that he lost himself. He allowed Elliott’s moans and the shivers of his body to guide him in his pace. Elliott’s fingers clutched at him, gripping his skin and urging him onward. Sebastian let himself fall into the sensations, into the warmth and beauty of Elliott’s body, into the passion they shared.

Elliott whimpered as Sebastian rocked back and forward inside of him. They had tried positions like this before, but usually with him flat on his back, not propped up partway like this. The difference in angle made Sebastian feel more prevalent inside of him, as he drove into and then retracted, stroking along Elliott’s insides and rubbing at his prostate in a way that sent sparks through him. The warmth he had spoken to Sebastian about was spreading through him, making him feel soft and happy and lustful through his entire being. 

Elliott trusted Sebastian to take care of him. Sebastian wasn’t a selfish lover, like some of the men Elliott had been with in the past. When Elliott had lost his virginity to Paul, one of the boys a year ahead of him at school, Paul had barely taken the time to lubricate him, and then plunged in, ignoring Elliott’s cries and pleas to slow down. It was only when Elliott had placed both feet on his erstwhile lover’s chest and pushed back with full force, knocking him away and off the bed, that Paul had apologized and offered to slow down, to take it easier. Elliott had reluctantly let him continue, and after, it had been much better, softer, gentler. It still wasn’t entirely comfortable, and he didn’t feel good about himself after it was over. He didn’t answer Paul’s texts after that, and it had taken quite some time before he had been comfortable enough letting another man into his bed.

That was the worst time. But there had been others, men who only cared about their own release, and ignored Elliott after they reached their peak, whether he was the one giving or receiving. Elliott had learned a lot about selfishness from seeing how other people reacted after they’d gotten what they wanted.

But now, with Sebastian, it was so beautiful every time. Sebastian was so worried about making him feel good, and their bodies sang together. Elliott almost forgot where he was, who he was, about the worries and concerns that kept him awake at night, that made him fret and think about how uncertain and unsteady the future was. When Sebastian made love to him, it was as though Elliott could forget every single other thing in the world.

Sebastian felt the heat, that familiar heat licking at his insides. He knew he was getting close. He didn’t want to come just yet. He wanted to prolong it for longer. So he pulled back until he was almost out of Elliott, and brought his hands up to Elliott’s chest. He began to run his fingers over Elliott, cherishing the whimpers that came from Elliott as he did. He had learned just how much Elliott loved being touched – Elliott had confided in him the first night they slept together in Zuzu City how he craved to be touched on his chest and his stomach, the places that people tended to avoid. He had sounded so forlorn that Sebastian had immediately begun gently stroking over his chest and his sides and his stomach, rendering Elliott almost paralyzed, whimpering from the sensations and pleading with him not to stop.

Now he applied his knowledge. He teased Elliott’s skin, feeling every inch of him, rough and smooth patches alike, the areas free from eczema on his chest where slight bits of hair grew and the roughness of the most inflamed areas around his ribs, pressing gently or firmly as he knew Elliott would like, and listened to Elliott fall apart underneath him, whimpering into his mouth, pleading with words that couldn’t be understood.

The sensation of Elliott going to pieces was enough to make Sebastian’s desire peak. He was so close. He was just barely holding back, and the way Elliott tried to push against him, to get him back deeper inside wasn’t helping. He broke from Elliott’s mouth, his voice unsteady.

“I’m close,” he said, almost apologetically. “I’m so close, Elliott. If I keep moving, I’m…”

“Do it,” Elliott breathed, his voice pleading. “Please. Please, darling, please… I need it. I need you. Come in me.”

The words were enough to break through the last of Sebastian’s resistance and he began to plunge into and pull back out of Elliott, causing Elliott to cry out as he did.

“Please – please – please,” Elliott begged as Sebastian brought himself closer and closer to the edge.

And then, as he pushed himself all the way in, Elliott locked his legs around Sebastian’s hips, pushing him even further in. Elliott grabbed onto Sebastian’s hair and crushed his lips against Sebastian’s and Sebastian came, screaming into Elliott’s mouth with pleasure as his orgasm tore through his being, emptying himself into Elliott over and over again, his hips bucking unwittingly as he did.

Sebastian reluctantly broke from Elliott’s mouth, only because he needed air so badly. He breathed raggedly, looking down into Elliott’s face as though he had never known or seen anything so beautiful in his entire life. He softly pressed his lips against Elliott’s once more, and then brought his hand around Elliott’s length, beginning to stroke between them.

Elliott leaned back against the pillow, letting out soft noises of pleasure as Sebastian stoked the flame inside of him once more. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, darling – I’m so very close.”

“Let me get you there,” Sebastian breathed. He almost enjoyed this as much as he did his own release. Watching as Elliott’s breathing became less steady and his whimpers increased, the way his cheeks and forehead became flushed, how he rolled his neck back, arching his head and then turning it from side to side. He had learned how Elliott responded to pleasure, and seeing the signs let him know what he was doing was right.

Elliott felt adrift on a sea of stars. Sebastian was still inside of him, not as hard, but not softening completely yet, and the clench of his muscles around Sebastian made the stroking Sebastian was attending him with feel even better by extension. He was barely conscious of the noises he was making. His arms were spread out to each side, his eyes closed and his entire focus on Sebastian, and how beautiful Sebastian had made him feel, how beautiful Sebastian was making him feel.

Sebastian could tell as Elliott’s whimpers came closer together and increased in pitch and desperation that Elliott was getting close. He stroked faster, twisting as he went, the way he knew drove Elliott crazy. Elliott’s breaths came quicker and quicker, a long whine escaping him.

Sebastian leaned in close to Elliott and pressed a few kisses on his neck, which made Elliott gasp at the sensation. Sebastian could sense how Elliott’s muscles were beginning to pull and he leaned up, kissing his way up Elliott’s neck, up his jaw, to his ear.

“Come for me,” he whispered.

Elliott screamed as his body reacted to the command, contracting and then tensing as he erupted, spraying himself and Sebastian both with his release. His scream lowered to a quiet moan of contentment and he collapsed back against the bed, breathing heavily.

Sebastian gently withdrew from Elliott and came up beside him, sliding under Elliott’s arm and resting his head on Elliott’s chest. Elliott let out a soft, “Oh,” as Sebastian nuzzled against him and he opened his eyes, blinking blearily as he did.

“That was…” he began, seeming unable to finish his sentence.

Sebastian chuckled. “I never thought I’d see the day Elliott Rourke was speechless,” he said.

Elliott managed to roll his eyes. “Yes, that’s just the magic of your prick, my darling. It turns me into a slavering idiot,” he said sardonically. He pulled Sebastian closer and pressed his lips against Sebastian’s.

“Thank you,” he said, softer and more seriously as he stroked Sebastian’s cheek. “Thank you for… for wanting to be with me.”

Sebastian tightened his squeeze around Elliott’s chest. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” he said, his own voice quiet. “You…” he trailed off, now his turn to be at a loss for words. “You make me feel like I’m not awful.”

Elliott looked into Sebastian’s eyes as he continued gently stroking the younger man’s face. “You are not awful,” he said, softly. “You are wonderful. You’re gorgeous and smart and kind and _sexy._ ” The last word made Sebastian scoff slightly, though he couldn’t help but feel a rush of pleasure.

“Maybe you’ve been working too many late nights. That’s not good for the eyes,” he said.

“I have been working a lot of late nights,” Elliott said. The tone in his voice made Sebastian stop smirking. “I’ve worked… very, very hard to get the book done. And I emailed it back to Cynthia yesterday. So now I just have to wait and see how things go with the publisher.”

“So, what’s next?” Sebastian asked.

“Well, they have to make sure there aren’t any errors in the document,” Elliott said. “They might want me to make some minor revisions, but probably nothing too big at this stage.” He pulled Sebastian onto his chest and looked up at the ceiling, letting out a long breath. “And then, in autumn, it gets published. And then we see how much people actually want to read what I have to say.”

“And that’s when you get paid, right?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes,” Elliott said. “In bits and pieces. Usually there’s a check that arrives every month or every quarter with my earnings. I don’t make all the money that comes from selling the book, the publisher keeps most of it. I make about twelve gold for every hundred a book sells for.”

Sebastian frowned. “That hardly seems fair,” he said.

Elliott shrugged. “It’s the publishing world,” he said. “They put up all the money for the print runs. If it doesn’t sell, they’re out that money. They’re the ones taking all the risk, and the ones who ensure there are enough copies to sell.” He smiled at Sebastian. “It isn’t all bad. I actually…” he trailed off, suddenly seeming shy.

“What?” Sebastian asked.

“I spoke with your mother a bit today,” Elliott said. “We agreed that next week, she’d come out and take a look at the cabin, to make some repairs.”

“That’s good,” Sebastian said.

“Yes,” Elliott said. “Because once I start getting paid, I’m going to try to buy the cabin from the town.”

Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat. “You are?” he asked.

Elliott nodded. “And I’m going to try to… well, to turn this place into a proper home,” he said. “I don’t want to make any major changes while the town still owns it. Just enough to make it a little better of a place to live. But after I’ve bought it, I want to think about adding a couple of rooms. Putting in a proper kitchen and bathroom. Giving myself enough space to have a little library, if I want.” He smiled at Sebastian. “It’s… there are possibilities now, darling. There are so many possibilities.”

Sebastian felt like his heart would break, seeing Elliott so happy. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Elliott’s. “I’m really glad,” he said, smiling at Elliott. “You deserve it. You deserve…” he let out a breath. “You deserve so much. You’re the best person I know.”

Elliott’s eyes softened even further and he gently stroked Sebastian’s face. “You’re so sweet,” he said.

“Nah, I’m prickly,” Sebastian said.

“You’re like a hedgehog,” Elliott said. “You’re prickly on the outside, and then there’s a very soft underbelly.”

“Oh, really?” Sebastian asked, feigning offense, though he was secretly pleased at the compliment. “Who’s got the soft underbelly?” Without warning, he began tickling Elliott’s sides and stomach. Elliott shrieked with a combination of laughter and surprise, squirming to try to get away from Sebastian.

“Stop! Stop! You damn harlot, stop!” Elliott managed to get out between laughs. Eventually he grabbed onto Sebastian and flipped him over on the bed so Elliott was on top, pinning Sebastian’s wrists to the bed.

Sebastian looked up at his wrists, then to Elliott. “I think you might have me at a bit of a disadvantage,” he said, a slow smile spreading on his face.

Elliott followed Sebastian’s gaze. “Perhaps I do,” he said. “What do you think I should do about it?”

“Oh, I have a couple of ideas,” Sebastian said, his smile widening to a grin. Elliott matched Sebastian’s grin and leaned in, kissing him deeply.

And outside, the waves continued to lap steadily and quietly at the shore.

~~~

_Incoming email_

_From: cjarvis@zuzucontinental.com  
To: Elliott.Rourke@zsu.edu  
Date: Thu. June 25 4:47 p.m.  
Subject: Re: Revisions to_ When Stars Collide

_Dear Elliott,_

_Please excuse the delay in responding. I’ve been in and out of meetings all day and only got to my email around four this afternoon._

_I have no doubt that I’ll be satisfied with the changes you’ve made. I’ll review what you’ve done over the weekend and will give you a call on Monday to discuss how it looks. I’ll likely be able to tell you at that time if we’ll be able to offer you a multi-book deal. Please also send me some samples of your artist friend’s work, and I’ll determine if her style is a good fit for the book or not._

_Congratulations on finishing your first novel. You have a long, successful career ahead of you._

_Cynthia_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the chapter that almost didn’t happen. At the end of Friday night, I had 23 pages written. I put my computer on Sleep Mode, went to bed, and when I woke up on Saturday discovered that my computer had turned itself on in the middle of the night, restarted itself to install updates, and that 17 pages of work was just gone. I searched in vain for any auto-saved work (which apparently got wiped in the restart) and came up empty-handed. I had to spend the entirety of Saturday recreating what I’d lost (everything from the point after Robin began serving breakfast to Sebastian waiting for Elliott to get out of the shower) and also finishing the last couple of scenes.
> 
> The moral of the story: _ALWAYS SAVE YOUR FUCKING WORK._
> 
> On a bookkeeping note, I’ve decided to change the day of the week I’ve indicated for updates from Friday to Saturday. The way my work is currently scheduled is making it difficult for me to upload chapters on Fridays, and they’ve been going up on Saturdays usually as it is. This won’t change much other than to give me a little bit of relief from authorial guilt at not getting a chapter up on the day I said it was going to be up. Most likely, chapters will be going up either very late on Friday or Saturday morning.
> 
> Next chapter will be a little more intense than the last few have been. We’re in the summer arc full bore now, and things are going to start heating up in Pelican Town in more ways than one. The pressure of keeping their relationship under wraps is going to start testing Elliott and Sebastian a lot, and there will be some new developments that make that even more of a challenge than before. As the heat of summer reaches a crescendo, we’re going to see them start to be tested, and things won’t always be comfortable. But don’t fret too much – there’s still a very long amount of story to go, at least another 25 chapters and probably more than that.
> 
> I’ve been absolutely overwhelmed at how much thoughtful, kind, generous feedback I’ve been getting of late, some from people who have been reading from day one and others from people who have just recently discovered the fic and have read through it. I appreciate each and every single comment I get, as well as the kudos and bookmarks – thank you all for making this story a joy to write from how wonderful you’ve all been. I’ll see you next week, guys!


	14. Splinters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I listened to while writing this chapter was Beth Orton’s cover of “Ooh Child,” found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bZy4SMhD7zo).

“The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.”  
-Ernest Hemingway

Robin Hill was a creature of habit. She hadn’t started out that way, but through twenty years of marriage, raising two pretty great kids, starting a business, and having to prove herself to a community that doubted she could ply her chosen trade simply because of her lack of a Y-chromosome, Robin had gotten used to doing things in a regular way.

She was up at sunrise, before anybody else in her household. Demetrius had once been as early a riser as her, but after the horrible year where he’d had to get up three days a week at 4:00 a.m. to commute to Grampleton and adjunct at Grampleton Community College all day before taking the train home and not arriving until almost 8:00 p.m., he had sworn off waking up before the sun ever again. Maru was up by nine, except the days she worked at Harvey’s clinic, when she got up a little earlier. And Sebby, well, it was anyone’s guess when he’d pull himself out of bed.

Robin appreciated the quiet mornings by herself. She would slide out of bed, pull on her robe and her slippers and move quietly into the kitchen, where she’d start the coffeepot. The smell alone was enough to banish the last sleepiness from her eyes, and she would pour herself a cup of hot, strong black coffee and take it out onto the porch to watch the sunrise. It was a ritual she kept up in all but the coldest winter weather. The mountain was peaceful. It kept her centered, to look out on the view of town all the way down to the beach and watch as the sky slowly turned from midnight blue to the brilliant gold of the sunrise.

After the sunrise and she finished her coffee, Robin would shower and prepare for the day, pulling her hair up, getting her axe sharpened, and readying herself for any orders or collecting wood or other materials. Though the exact order of the day wasn’t a routine, the way she approached it was: envisioning each project and thinking of the exact sort of wood she needed to best prepare it.

Robin didn’t consider herself an artist, not really, but she knew she looked at wood with the same critique any artist might his or her chosen media. It had to be strong, of course, it had to withstand the cutting and carpentry process, but it also had to be beautiful. The grain in the wood mattered, the way the loops and lines formed, so that her clients would look at what she had done and would be immediately satisfied with it.

In the evening, Robin would clean up, and ready dinner for her family. Tuesdays, her one day off, were the days that she worked into the evening, preparing casseroles or other meals that could be easily heated during the week. But only after aerobics, another important part of her routine. Robin prided herself on her strength. She knew it wasn’t typical for a woman over forty to be as strong as she was, able to lift her axe and fell a tree and build things with muscles that had been earned through decades of physical labor. And that was part of what made her proud. The aerobics were to make sure she wasn’t neglecting other parts of her body, other parts that might be getting soft.

And in the evening, she would curl up under a blanket and sit on the couch next to Demetrius or Maru or both – or every once in a while Sebastian when he could be bothered to join them – and watch television or an old movie or read or otherwise let her mind power down for the night. She was in bed most nights by ten, asleep and ready for the next day.

And so it was on the morning of July eleventh, a Thursday, a day when she had no other jobs planned, that Robin sat out on the porch in the morning, sipping her coffee and looking down to the beach. That was the site of her job today, fixing the drafts and the water pressure in Elliott’s cabin and seeing about putting in a new bed and a new kitchen.

A few months earlier, Robin didn’t have particularly strong opinions about Elliott. She liked him well enough, much as she liked most people in town. But she hadn’t had more than a passing conversation with him, either at the saloon or at a festival or if they happened to be walking through town at the same time. He had seemed a little flighty to her – pleasant and good-natured, but a little distracted, a little vague.

And then Elliott had started coming around their house. And Sebastian had started looking at Elliott with a softness and warmth in his eyes that Robin hadn’t seen from her son in a very, very long time. She had paid close attention and had seen the same warmth in Elliott’s eyes when he looked at Sebastian. And they had gone away on their trip together, a trip to Zuzu City, and when Sebastian had returned, he had been _glowing_ with joy.

So Robin paid more attention to Elliott. And the more attention she paid, the more she saw to like. Elliott was a hard worker. Not in the sort of physical labor that Robin was used to, but he created worlds out of his own imagination, he wove together words and pieced together a narrative in a way that she frankly found intimidating as hell. Robin had gone to college for a couple of semesters, at her parents’ request. She found it dull and dreary and longed to be outside, doing something with her hands. Carpentry had been almost an accident, something she had taken on as a summer job and never intended to make a career of when she started, but the pride she took in it now was akin to the pride she saw Elliott take the night he had written notes down with such care and precision at her workbench.

And Elliott was as generous with his words to Sebastian as he was with the worlds he created. She paid attention to the way he spoke to Sebastian, the way he took care to praise and gently encourage Sebastian. The changes in her son had been remarkable. She had caught him smiling to himself more than once, lost in thought, unable to wipe the smile from his face. She had seen that same look the day of the Flower Dance when Sebastian had eaten under one of the trees with Elliott and hugged him so tightly. And the same look again at the Luau, when Elliott wandered onto the pier and Sebastian stood up and moved closer to him and they ate together again, quietly talking with soft smiles on each of their faces.

There were times when it scared Robin how much she liked Elliott. He was kind and smart and handsome and funny, and he brought Sebastian out of his shell like she had never seen before. Even Sam and Abigail hadn’t accomplished that in more than fifteen years of friendship. Elliott was giving her her son back, the way he was when he was young and curious and wanted to know everything and explore the world. Before the horrible high school years when he came home on the bus in tears more days than not, when he had been teased mercilessly for being small, when he’d been called horrible slurs, when he’d gotten so anxious that he’d gotten the bleeding ulcer and had to be hospitalized for a few days.

She had wanted to pull him out of Stardew Valley High and send him to a private school in Zuzu City. It would have killed her to have been apart from him for that much of the year – and it would have required her and Demetrius to dip deep into their savings – but she was ready to do it if it would have kept Sebastian safe. Demetrius had been on board. He was just as worried as she was and he had gone to the high school in Grampleton to talk to the principal and express their concerns.

Robin had asked him to do it. She knew that if she went there, she would have blown her stack and screamed her head off at the principal for letting those bullies torment Sebastian so much. The nights she heard Sebastian crying by himself in his room almost broke her. She’d wanted nothing more than to hurt the ones who had hurt her boy. She still hadn’t fully forgiven the Mullner boy, though he did seem to have come down a lot from his horrible period in high school.

Demetrius’s cooler head, then, had to be the one to prevail. He and the principal eventually reached a compromise. Sebastian was moved to different classes, away from the students who were so awful to him, for the rest of the year. It probably had saved him. Robin had been worried sick that Sebastian would hurt himself. But whenever she tried to talk to him, whenever she tried to see how he was doing, he would clam up. He never wanted to talk about how he felt or what he was thinking or how he was feeling. He just got very, very, very quiet. And he had stayed very, very, very quiet for the next eight or nine years.

Until out of nowhere, Sebastian had asked her if he could have some friends over to play a game, and Elliott had showed up. She had never known Elliott and Sebastian to even have had a conversation before. But that was the day Robin started to have some hope that Sebastian might pull himself out of the darkness he had lingered in for what was now more than a third of his life.

She had already made up her mind that she would fix Elliott’s cabin at cost – if he paid for the materials, she would fix it up without charging him for labor. It was the least she could do to help him, and she still couldn’t believe he had lived in that awful cabin for so long. The prior resident had left Pelican Town before her family had even moved there, now some eighteen, nineteen years ago. When she had first taken Sebastian to the beach and let him play in the tide pools and swim close to shore, she had thought the cabin was just storage, something to keep materials for festivals or something Willy used to hold fishing gear. She had never dreamed anyone would ever try to live there.

Robin sat back in the rocking chair on her porch, smiling at the beach in the distance. She couldn’t quite make out the cabin from where she was, but she would be seeing it soon enough. And she would do everything she could to make Elliott comfortable. He had to stay. He _had_ to stay. She couldn’t bear the thought of Sebastian being brokenhearted if he left, of him retracting back into his shell and staying down in the basement all day and always looking so tired and sad and never smiling at anything. It would kill her to see Sebastian go back to that after he had been so much happier the last couple of months.

And so, after the sun crept over the horizon, Robin finished the last of her coffee, rose, and made her way inside the house. It was going to be a good day. She could feel it in her bones.

After she showered and made breakfast – Demetrius joined her, and Maru came stumbling in blearily just in time to get some eggs and coffee – Robin grabbed her toolbelt and fixed it around her waist before stepping outside the house, beginning her walk down the mountain. When her family had moved to the valley, they had rented the house that the Thomas family, Jacob and Liz and their daughters Emily and Haley, bought a few years later. It had been well-made, and certainly there was enough room for them, but Robin itched at being so close to everything. She and Demetrius both greatly preferred living up in the mountains, and so after she had established her business and had socked enough money away for the family to live on for a couple of months, Robin had undertaken the process of building their house. It was still the creation that brought her the most pride.

Their home on the mountain pass, just removed enough from Pelican Town to have peace and quiet all the time but close enough to go into town whenever they needed, was perfect. It was just right for their family. She hadn’t anticipated Sebastian moving into the basement and refusing to move back to the bedroom she had made for him and Maru. She’d insisted on at least putting a bathroom in and finishing it up to make it a proper room. She still felt guilty sometimes, but he seemed to enjoy having his space.

Then again, maybe it wouldn’t be that much longer before he was thinking about moving out.

She knew he’d had desires to leave. He’d hinted enough times at wanting to move to Zuzu City, to be in a bigger place, somewhere he didn’t feel so stifled. But those comments had dropped off significantly in the last couple of months. Robin felt a slight flutter in her stomach. She might very well be making fixes to a home her son might move into at some point.

She hadn’t told Sebastian yet that she knew about him and Elliott. What could she say, really? _Sebby, how is Elliott doing? You two have gotten so close._ He would deny it, and then clam up. He always did. She’d learned through the roughest part of the teenage years that Sebastian wasn’t someone who wanted to be asked probing questions about himself. If he felt comfortable enough, he might offer a piece of information here or there, but it took a long time for him to reveal anything major.

Robin walked through the square, smiling and waving to Penny and her pupils as she went. She watched as Penny carefully led Vincent and Jas through the town, toward the library for their lessons. Her heart spasmed as she did. It truly didn’t seem like that long ago when Sebastian and Maru were that small, and now they were grown. She was proud of her kids – both of her kids, despite what Sebastian thought – and it had been a hard realization how they were really growing up. They were adults now. Maru had just turned nineteen, and Sebastian would be twenty-four in December, just five months away.

Yoba, how had she suddenly gotten old enough to have two kids who were legal adults? She was only forty-three. She certainly didn’t _feel_ old. But it really wouldn’t be too long before Sebastian and Maru were moving onto the next phases of their lives. Maru had been saving money like crazy ever since she’d gotten her job at the clinic, trying to build up a nest egg before she went away to college. She still hoped Sebastian would at least go and get that certificate he’d mentioned, the one that would let him get hired on full-time at one of the companies that he kept doing freelance work for. She’d offered to pay for him to take classes at Grampleton Community College, but he was reluctant. He was always so reluctant to do anything to take him out of his comfort zone.

It was nearly 9:30 by the time Robin made it down to the beach. She had walked slowly, but even then, she was there half an hour before she said she would be. She couldn’t help wanting to get an early start to the day. And the beach was beautiful; it wouldn’t hurt if she got there a bit before ten and spent some time looking for shells or sitting and watching the waves.

Of course, she couldn’t _quite_ resist taking a preliminary glance at the cabin. She should have looked at it when she had been down for the Luau, when Elliott had stopped her and asked if she might swing by at some point when she was free. But it had been such a hot day and between the dancing and the sparkling wine and the food, she’d been exhausted and had decided she would just look at it when she got there.

Up close, it looked even worse than she had remembered. There had been a few bad storms already this summer, and the rickety old thing had weathered more than a couple of typhoons. She didn’t like the way the roof slanted. And she could clearly see where some of the boards in the walls had splintered, no doubt the source of the drafts Elliott had sounded almost apologetic about when he’d spoken with her about the repairs, that first day he’d come to their house.

Robin chewed her lip. Seeing the cabin was making her antsier than she anticipated. She wanted to do a good job, but she didn’t want this to turn into a huge undertaking. Getting money out of Lewis to make the necessary repairs was going to be like squeezing blood from a stone as it was. And she certainly didn’t want to drain Elliott of any money – from what little Sebastian had told her, he was going to be counting every gold until his first check for his book came in.

Robin stepped away from the cabin and moved down toward the dock where Willy’s bait shop stood. The old pier had been there since before she moved to Pelican Town, likely at least half a century from the look of it. But unlike the cabin, it had held up well. No doubt whoever had built it had treated the wood well. She could tell just from looking at Elliott’s cabin that the wood hadn’t been treated. That was going to make this job a lot harder.

The best thing, she already knew, would be if Elliott simply bought the land the cabin sat on and she could then build him a new house from scratch. Not only would that be so much easier, but Elliott would also save money in the long run. If he tried to keep the cabin up, he would be needing constant repairs. But she doubted very much that Lewis would be willing to just sell the land. If he could get something out of it, he would. 

She didn’t envy Lewis his position. She wouldn’t want to be mayor and have to deal with all of the financial burdens that came with running the town. But it seemed like Lewis was always insisting on saving gold where it should have been spent – he saved money in the short term by not making repairs that would end up costing the town much more down the line. Who knew? Maybe that was necessary to keep the town’s budget operational. For years, she had paid her taxes and entrusted that they went to help keep things like the library and the other subsidized businesses in town from going under. She’d been lucky. There was always need of a carpenter in a place like Pelican Town, and Becca’s near-endless stream of buildings and upgrades for the farm had made things very comfortable for Robin of late. If she’d wanted, she could probably have chosen to retire and just invest what she currently had in the bank, living off the proceeds the rest of her life and leaving a comfortable inheritance for Sebastian and Maru.

But she didn’t want to retire. Not so long as there was strength in her arms and legs and a desire to work in her blood.

Robin heard the creaking of a door hinge behind her and turned. Elliott was just stepping out onto the beach and he smiled and waved upon seeing her.

“Good morning!” he called, his voice fading slightly in the wind that always seemed to pick up along the beach. Robin waved back and crossed the sand to speak with him.

“Morning,” she said. “I got here a bit early, so I thought I’d check to see how the old dock is holding up.”

Elliott shivered a little at the thought. “I keep telling Willy I don’t know how he can stand to live on that creaky old pier,” he said. “There was a storm last summer that was so bad I almost braved it just to make him come and stay in my cabin. I thought he was going to get washed away.”

“It’s sturdier than it looks,” Robin said. “I know Marnie’s terrified of it. She won’t set foot on it, even during the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies, but it’s held up surprisingly well.”

“That’s good to hear,” Elliott said, smiling. “Well, I suppose we should get started, then?”

“Sounds good,” Robin said, reaching into her toolbelt. “Can you show me where your water main is?”

Elliott blinked.

Robin chuckled. “Is there a pipe that goes into the cabin at some point? Probably goes in around the wall where the kitchen is?”

“Oh! Yes, that,” Elliott said. He turned and made his way around the cabin. “Please watch your step. There are still some old things that the prior owners left behind,” he said. “I found some old crab pots out here a few months ago. They helped get me through a rough patch where my budget was quite lean.”

Robin glanced around at the fallen wood. If it had been in better shape, she might be able to use it to make some of the repairs necessary. When Elliott directed her to the water main, she knelt down and inspected it, testing how it felt and whether there were any obvious leaks. Her fingers came back wet and she wiped them on her pants.

“It’s loose,” she said, reaching onto her belt for a monkey wrench she always carried to jobs. She tightened the wrench around the main, carefully adjusting it until it felt snug and wouldn’t move any more. Releasing the wrench, she tucked it back into her tool belt and stood up, looking to Elliott with a nod. “Let’s go check and see how it is in the kitchen now,” she said.

Elliott carefully led her to the door of the cabin and pushed it in. Robin glanced around as she moved inside. It was clearly as well-maintained as Elliott could manage – clean, and free from any obvious debris or problems. But she could see again how some of the planks were warped. Her stomach clenched. _It might not be the worst-case scenario. Just wait and see._

Elliott moved to the sink and, almost dreading what he was going to see, turned it on. He let out a cry of triumph as water coursed forth, sputtering a bit at first, but then settling into a steady stream.

“I can’t even believe it was that simple,” he said, sounding half-amazed and half-regretful – no doubt that he had lived with horrible water pressure for so long, Robin figured.

She smiled. “Sometimes it’s that easy of a fix,” she said. She glanced over the cabinets. “While we’re here, let me take a look at what you’ve got and see if I can quote you a price for getting a proper kitchen installed,” she said, kneeling down to check the cabinets and the baseboards. The kitchen wasn’t as bad as she’d feared – there would need to be some repairs made, but the biggest issue would be simply getting proper appliances out here.

“Tell it to me straight, doctor,” Elliott said gravely as she stood. “How ill is the patient?”

Robin chuckled. “Not as bad as you might think,” she said. “The cabinets are actually pretty sturdy. But you’ll want to get a working stove and a refrigerator and a dishwasher in here. That should run you about five thousand gold. It would be more if I had to add in the cabinet space, so that’ll save you a little money.”

Elliott winced at the sound of the price. “I, erm,” he said, hesitating. Robin gave him a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry if you can’t afford that right now,” she said. “Like I said, this is probably the least of my worries – you can use the kitchen as it is. The big cost is going to be the actual appliances, so I could prep it and get it ready for the cost of materials and then when you’re ready, we could order the appliances and get them installed. There’s an appliance store in Grampleton I’ve worked with for years. They have very high-quality goods.”

Elliott nodded, looking relieved. “And how much would one of those four-poster beds cost?” he asked.

Normally, Robin would sell that bed for six thousand gold. That reflected the amount of hardwood she had to acquire and the time necessary to put it together. She pursed her lips.

“I can’t go any lower than four thousand on that specific one,” she said. Elliott blanched and Robin held up a hand. “But,” she said, “but I do have several other models I could make that are just as sturdy and would give you just as good a night’s sleep. They’re not quite as beautiful, but they’re just as well made. I could go as low as fifteen hundred starting at the basic double bed, and if you want any specific changes made to that, we can talk about how much that would cost.”

Elliott exhaled and some color came back to his cheeks. “You just nearly sent me to an early grave,” he said, sitting down at the table.

Robin laughed. “Sorry about that,” she said. She glanced about. “So, the other things you said you wanted to do were the bathroom and the drafts. I can fix the drafts today, do you want me to do that first or take a look at the bathroom and give you an estimate there?”

“I think I need a minute for my heart to recover,” Elliott said, smiling. “The drafts are worst around the doorframe and the windows.”

 _Damn._ That wasn’t a good sign. Robin did her best to keep her poker face as she moved over to the doorframe and pulled her flashlight off her belt. She could clearly see where some of the boards had receded and she shone her flashlight into the crevice.

As soon as she saw what was inside, Robin’s heart sank. She closed her eyes and let out a long breath before opening her eyes and turning around.

“Elliott,” she said, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible. “I’m going to need you to come take a look at this.”

~~~

Sebastian had spent most of the late morning working. He liked Thursdays. Thursdays were days when Maru worked at the clinic and Demetrius spent tracking down specimens and recording data in the woods. It was always quiet. Usually the only noise was if mom was listening to some music up in her shop or working out back, but he was so used to those noises by now that he didn’t even think about them.

The code he was working on wasn’t complicated. The company who’d hired him had wanted a dual authorization for their employees to log into the secure server. It was the sort of thing he had done any number of times before. He was in the midst of running a trial when the phone rang. Not his phone, or the house phone. The upstairs phone. The business phone. The one that mom had set up to ring with a non-stop shrill noise that drilled into his consciousness. She didn’t want to miss any business calls, so she had deliberately installed a phone with the most obnoxious ringtone she could find.

Sebastian gritted his teeth and turned the music on his headphones up, but the noise continued to push through, shredding his nerves and feeling as though someone were rubbing broken glass up his spine. He ripped the headphones off and moved to the door, opening it and going up the stairs. The noise got worse the more he climbed. Mom was out, he remembered now. She had a job, so he was the only one who was here to answer the business line.

Sebastian reached the phone next to mom’s desk and forced a tight smile onto his face as he picked it up. “Hilltop Carpentry, where we’re not satisfied until your home is at the tippy-tippy-top,” he said. “Whaddya want?”

“Sebastian David!” _Shit._ “Is that how you answer the phone? How many times have you answered the business line like that?”

“Sorry, mom,” he mumbled. “What’s going on?”

Robin sighed. “I need you to grab my big toolkit,” she said, her voice serious. “You can take the truck. Bring it down to the beach. Just hurry.”

Sebastian’s stomach flipped. _She’s inspecting Elliott’s cabin._ “What’s wrong?” he asked, feeling a coldness creep up through his stomach.

Robin let out a long breath. “I think there’s rot in the walls,” she said.

“Shit,” Sebastian said, his heart seizing in his chest. “Shit. Shit shit shit.”

“Sebastian,” Robin said, speaking in the way she always did when she needed him to focus. “It’s going to be okay, but I need to confirm this. The faster you get here, the faster I can get the answers.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Sebastian said, hanging up. His heart pounded in his chest as he moved into the back of the store, grabbing Robin’s large toolkit, the one she only brought along when she was on major jobs, and the keys to the truck. He moved out of the door and unlocked the truck, tossing the toolkit onto the passenger’s seat as he stepped in. He adjusted the mirrors and started the engine, his heart not stopping its thudding as he carefully drove onto the narrow road heading down the mountain into town.

 _She’s fixing Elliott’s cabin. She’s gone to the beach to fix Elliott’s cabin. She’s supposed to be_ fixing _his cabin, not finding stuff wrong with it._

Sebastian had grown up around wood all his life. He understood wood almost inherently. He knew what types were stronger than others, which ones made reliable furniture, and which were better served for forming walls, either exterior or interior. And he had been able to tell just from being inside Elliott’s cabin as many times as he had that the wood wasn’t well-maintained. But he hadn’t been able to tell that there was rot. Rot was the worst thing that could happen. Not only could it have been making Elliott sick, but if it was widespread enough…

Sebastian felt a cold hand grip his heart. _Please no. Please no. Please, he can’t leave. He can’t leave me._

Sebastian gritted his teeth as he drove down toward the bridge leading into the main area of town. Penny held up an apologetic hand as she ushered Vincent and Jas across. _Come on. Come on, Penny, hurry the fuck up._ His fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly. The longer they had to wait, the more he knew Elliott had to be dying a thousand deaths.

Penny finally managed to get the kids out of the way and Sebastian eased off the brake, carefully driving through town and parking just outside of the mayor’s house. He grabbed the toolkit and was over the bridge to the beach and down to the sand as quickly as he could go.

When he made it onto the beach, he didn’t even look in the direction of the cabin. He saw Elliott’s back, his hair catching in the breeze, as he sat on the sand and looked out at the ocean. Sebastian’s heart broke. He couldn’t even imagine what Elliott was going through right now.

“Thank Yoba you’re here.” He turned as mom came up to him, taking the toolkit from him. He locked eyes with her and saw her pause.

He lowered his voice. “Tell me the truth,” he said simply.

Robin hesitated, then bit her lip. “It’s one of the worst cases I’ve ever seen,” she said, keeping her own voice low. “Probably at least five years of unchecked rot. I have to record the levels for the sake of getting the mayor out here.”

 _Shit._ There was no fix for that. Sebastian looked back to Elliott, then to Robin, unable to ask the question he knew he had to.

Robin let out a breath. “He’s devastated,” she said quietly. “Go sit with him, talk to him. That’s the best thing you can do,” she said.

Sebastian lowered his head and managed a slight nod. Robin put her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it, before she disappeared into the cabin. Sebastian looked up and back over to Elliott. Elliott didn’t appear to have moved at all. Sebastian walked across the sand, a lump settling deeper in his throat with every step.

The worst part was that it was a beautiful day. Not too hot, a cooling breeze coming from the ocean, the gulls circling overhead and cawing to each other. It wasn’t fair. Things like this were supposed to happen on awful, stormy days, to match the mood. The beauty of the beach seemed to be mocking Elliott’s despair.

Sebastian sat down next to Elliott and reached for his hand, taking it and squeezing it wordlessly. He looked at Elliott, whose face was almost impassive. His jaw was set and his eyes wavered. He didn’t look at Sebastian but managed a small squeeze back.

“She fixed the water,” Elliott finally said, his voice quiet. “It’s flowing like it should now.”

“That’s good,” Sebastian said without even thinking. What good was having steady water pressure going to do Elliott now?

Elliott made a small noise in the back of his throat. Sebastian could see that his eyes looked damp, though the tears weren’t falling just yet. He tried opening his mouth to say something, but everything he could think of was stupid or meaningless. Elliott would have known what to say if their positions were swapped. He would have comforted Sebastian, would have held him close and assured him that everything would be fine, that they would figure something out, that he would be here and wouldn’t let anything happen to Sebastian.

And Sebastian couldn’t even get a single word out. He cursed his tongue for being mute when Elliott needed to hear him the most. _Stupid. You’re so fucking stupid. Say_ something, _dammit._

“It was all going so well.” Sebastian’s eyes snapped up as Elliott spoke. He swallowed.

“You…” he began, hardly knowing how to respond to Elliott.

“It was going so well,” Elliott said again, his voice thick. “I had just gotten my revisions out. It’s only seven weeks or so until my check arrives. I was going to make this place a home. I had…” his voice broke. At last, he turned his head, looking at Sebastian. The devastation in his eyes almost made Sebastian cry out. “I had so many plans, Sebastian. I had so many things I wanted to do.”

“You still can,” Sebastian said, squeezing his hand. “You still can do those things, whatever you want to do. It just… it’s going to take a little longer, but you can –”

“Robin said –” Elliott cut him off, and seemed to realize it, then proceeded anyway. “Your mother said if it’s as bad as she thinks it is, it’s not safe for me to live there anymore.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said quietly. “If it is rot, it’s…” he swallowed. “One bad storm could make the whole thing come down. It’s probably going to have to be condemned.”

A few trickles emerged from Elliott’s eyes. He stared at Sebastian. His lips moved, but no words came out.

“Ell… Elliott, it’s okay,” Sebastian said, turning and putting a hand on Elliott’s arm. “It’s – we’ll figure something out, we’ll…”

“I’m going to be homeless.” The words came out as though Sebastian hadn’t said anything, in a tone of voice barely audible and full of dread. Sebastian felt his stomach twist. Elliott was right. There wasn’t anywhere in town for him to move to. But he had to say something. He had to try to make Elliott not feel so much despair. He had to.

“No,” Sebastian said, firmly. He squeezed Elliott’s arm. “No, we’re – _I’m_ not going to let that happen,” he said. “If you have to stay in our guest room, you can. I’ll talk to mom. I know she already feels horrible. She’d let you…”

Elliott’s face wasn’t changing. If anything, the idea of him having to stay in someone’s spare room seemed to be making him feel even worse.

“What can I do?” Sebastian begged. He took his other hand from Elliott’s and put it on the opposite arm that he was already gripping. “Please, Elliott. Please, tell me what I can do. What can I do to make you feel better? I’ll do anything. I swear, I’ll do anything, I just –” his voice caught and he lowered his head. “I can’t stand seeing you this upset,” he said, throat thick. “I can’t bear it.”

“I’m sorry,” Elliott managed to get out.

“No,” Sebastian said, raising his head and looking at Elliott intently. “No, you are not apologizing. You have _nothing_ to apologize for. You’re the one who got done dirty by all of this bullshit, this is _not_ your fault.”

“I should have…” Elliott’s voice broke again and he closed his eyes, lowering his head. “I should have said something or done something. Maybe if I’d spoken up earlier, if I’d gotten your mother out here, it wouldn’t have been too late. Maybe she could have saved the cabin. I should have – I always – I never want to be a bother. And now I’m…”

At last, Elliott broke down. His shoulders started shaking and a few choked sobs escaped him. Sebastian wrapped his arms around Elliott and gripped him as tightly as he dared. He brought a hand up, stroking Elliott’s hair, and murmured quiet things to him, words that never crossed his mind, things that came out of his mouth without him even thinking of what they were. He wasn’t even sure if Elliott was hearing him.

Across the beach, Robin exited the cabin. She spotted Sebastian and Elliott and closed the door behind herself quietly. Sebastian raised his eyebrows, asking the question without words. Robin shook her head slightly. Sebastian winced. Robin pointed to the stairs from the beach and made her way to them.

At any other time, Sebastian would have relished the chance to see Lewis get chewed out. He didn’t like Lewis. Lewis was the sort of person who got a small bit of meaningless power and spent the rest of his life trying to figure out how to hold onto it, rather than using it to make anyone’s lives better. Sebastian had watched as the infrastructure in Pelican Town got worse and worse and worse over the years. First the minecarts shut down, and then the bus stopped running, and then the community center closed. Every time, it was the same excuse: _there’s no money, there’s never enough money to fix what needs fixing._

Sebastian had long suspected that Lewis just didn’t know how to manage the funds that came in from taxes and the small bit of tourism Pelican Town got every year, from the fair or the visitors from Zuzu City coming to the beach or whatever. It would have explained a lot. He knew that Robin was going to rip a strip off of Lewis and make him come and see what he’d done. If anybody else had been affected by this, Sebastian would have enjoyed it. Instead, it just gave him a small sense of bitter satisfaction. Lewis would get yelled at, maybe badmouthed a bit, but Elliott was the one who was going to pay the price.

When Robin crossed over the bridge and was no longer in sight, Sebastian turned to Elliott and brought his mouth in, kissing Elliott a few times in succession, gently leaving his hand on Elliott’s face as he did. Elliott leaned into the kiss, grabbing onto Sebastian and pulling him in close. Sebastian could feel Elliott trembling and shuddering as they kissed. There was a desperation in his kiss, one that Sebastian had never felt before.

When they finally broke from each other, Sebastian leaned his forehead against Elliott’s. “I am not going to let anything bad happen to you,” he said quietly. “You’re too important to me. I can’t… I wouldn’t be able to make it if you weren’t here.”

“Where am I supposed to go?” Elliott asked. “I… I can’t ask anyone to put me up for almost two months. That’s too much. That would…” he closed his eyes. “I can’t ask your mother to put me up for that much time.”

“Why not?” Sebastian asked. “I’d –” he paused. “I mean, just being selfish, I’d love to have you that close. And mom and Demetrius and Maru all really like you.”

“I know,” Elliott said quietly. “And I’d like to keep it that way.” He looked up at Sebastian. “I take up more space than the usual houseguest,” he said quietly. “I need time to take care of my skin and I tend to spread out. Your house is comfortable now because everyone has their own space. Everyone has his or her own area planned out. You introduce a new person into that, even one who’s well-liked, who takes up some of that space, and…” he trailed off, dropping his head once more.

“I won’t let that happen,” Sebastian said urgently. He lifted Elliott’s head up and Elliott opened his eyes. “I am not going to let you just… fade away. I’m not going to let it happen. I _refuse_ to let it happen.” His voice sounded furious now. He was angry at everyone, angry at Lewis, angry at mom, angry at everybody in the world except for Elliott. Elliott had taken care of him, had held him, reassured him, told him things were going to be all right. Now it was his turn to do it.

Elliott and Sebastian heard Robin before they saw her. Both turned to the bridge leading down from town. Robin’s temper was clearly flaring and they could just make out her words.

“- and if you think for _one damn minute_ that I am ever going to let you get away with renting a place out to someone without me going in and doing an inspection first, you have got another think coming. All it would take is one phone call to the Carpenter’s Union to let them know the mayor of Pelican Town is renting out houses that should be condemned without letting a registered inspector come in and take a look and they would be up your ass _so fast_ it would give you a wedgie up to your eyeballs!”

Lewis Kingery, the mayor of Pelican Town, at least had the decency to look sheepish as Robin led him over the bridge. His newsboy cap was pulled down over his head – he’d worn the stupid thing ever since his hair had started thinning some fifteen years ago – and he kept his gaze down, mumbling an occasional word or two to try and mollify Robin.

For her part, Robin was resisting any such attempts at mollification. Sebastian hadn’t seen his mother truly go off like this since the time he got suspended from school for getting caught smoking in the restroom. Robin’s temper was like a supernova: rare and awe-inspiring and blinding and consuming everything in every direction.

“Come on,” Sebastian said gently, helping Elliott up. Elliott weakly got to his feet and allowed Sebastian to lead him along toward his cabin. Sebastian saw a fresh look of pain pass before Elliott’s eyes as he took in the cabin once more. He couldn’t even imagine what Elliott must have been feeling. How could he possibly make Elliott feel like things were going to be all right? Elliott was being evicted from his home.

“And just look at this!” Robin said, lifting one of the planks on the outside of the door frame. Sebastian’s stomach clenched. There was no way she should be able to do that – if the planks were in place appropriately, they would have been fixed together. Lewis cringed and, when he got close enough, Sebastian did as well. The rot was visible – black and ugly and clearly having already eaten through much of the structure of the wall. It was a miracle the cabin was even still standing.

“Yoba,” Lewis muttered, pushing his cap back on his forehead and leaning forward. “I’ve never even seen anything like it. What could possibly be causing that?”

“Untreated wood,” Robin said bitterly, letting the plank fall back. “No doubt whoever built this place convinced the owner to save a little extra money.” She let out a hot breath of frustration. “Up until about twenty-five years ago, there was a belief that if you built a wood structure near salt air, the salt would kill any rot. They’ve proven that’s wrong, and anyone who’s ever worked with wood could have told you it. You have to prepare the wood properly before you build, no matter where you’re building. _Especially_ somewhere that sees all this weather.”

“Well, what can be done?” Lewis asked, turning back to Robin. “How do we fix this?”

Robin blinked. “You –” she began. Sebastian saw her clench her fist and her jaw simultaneously. “You don’t _fix this,_ Lewis,” she said at last. “The rot’s in the walls. It’s been allowed to grow unchecked. You can’t just scrub it away like mildew in your shower. The cabin’s got to be condemned. Probably all it’s going to take is one cyclone or one really bad thunderstorm to take it down.”

Elliott seemed to shrink with every word Robin was saying. He looked like he might start crying again without warning.

“Well…” Lewis said, exhaling a long breath. “Well, then, that’s what we have to do.” He turned to Elliott, the practiced look of sympathy that Sebastian had seen so many times before on his face. “I’m so very sorry about this, Elliott,” he said. “I certainly never expected this would be the case when I rented it to you.”

“It’s – you could hardly have known,” Elliott managed to get out. He blinked a few times, no doubt willing the tears away, before he asked, “Is there… is there anywhere in town, even a room I might rent, that we could transfer my rental agreement to?”

“I’m so sorry, but we just don’t…” Lewis sighed. “We don’t have that many rental properties. You and Leah in your cabins, and Penny and Pam have the trailer. Everyone else owns their homes. If you wanted to rent from someone, you’d have to speak with them directly.”

“Elliott,” Robin said. The three men turned to her. Sebastian recognized the tone of voice she was taking. It was the tone Robin always had when she had figured out what she wanted to do and was leading everyone else to it. “You paid for your rent in advance, correct?” Robin asked.

“Yes,” Elliott said quietly. “Two years. I had… it goes until the end of August, there was about a month and a half left,” he said.

“Is the town prepared to refund that money to him?” Robin asked, turning to Lewis. The edge in her voice hadn’t vanished and Sebastian could see Lewis wince slightly. “It seems only fair, since he won’t be getting the rest of his rental.”

“Erm,” Lewis said, a slight flush coming to his cheeks. Sebastian felt a hot flush of anger. “Well, we just –” Lewis sighed. “Robin, we just paid for the Luau, and I’ve made payments for all the entertainment and attractions for the fair in a couple of months. There’s almost nothing in the town’s coffers right now.”

“That’s _bullshit!”_ Sebastian exploded. Everyone jumped and Lewis narrowed his eyes at Sebastian. “You can’t just keep his money like that!”

“Sebastian, it’s all right,” Elliott said quietly.

“No, it’s not!” Sebastian said, turning to Elliott. “He took your money and put you in a falling down shack that wasn’t safe for you to live in and now he won’t even give you back what he owes you!”

“I will be able to refund Elliott’s money _after the fair_ ,” Lewis said through clenched teeth. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing else I can do! It’s a terrible situation, but my hands are tied!”

“I don’t think they are,” Robin said, her voice dangerously even. Lewis clearly stifled a groan before he turned back to Robin. She leveled her emerald eyes on Lewis carefully, then looked up to Elliott. “Elliott, you stayed with Leah when you first came to town, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Elliott said quietly. “She’s – well, she’s the one who encouraged me to come here in the first place.”

Robin glanced back at Lewis. “Did Leah pay for her rent in advance?” she asked.

“No,” Lewis said, shaking his head. “She pays monthly.” 

“Are Elliott and Leah’s rent the same cost?” Robin asked.

“No,” Lewis said reluctantly, clearly knowing where Robin was going with this. “She pays five hundred more gold a month than him. She has a larger cabin and it’s better maintained.”

“Well, then,” Robin said evenly. “Elliott, would Leah be willing to let you stay with her for the next few weeks?”

“I could… ask,” Elliott said hesitantly.

“If she is,” Robin said, turning her intent gaze back to Lewis, “then wouldn’t it be the easiest and fairest thing to refund Elliott’s money through cutting Leah’s rent by the amount he paid for his cabin for the last month and a half?”

Lewis let out the groan of a man who clearly knew when he was being had by the balls. “Fine,” he said sharply. “Fine, if that will make everybody happy.”

“Elliott’s homeless because you fucked up,” Sebastian spat. “I doubt everybody’s happy. More like if it’ll keep you from getting your ass sued.”

Lewis affixed a sharp glance at Sebastian, which was returned. No doubt if Robin hadn’t been here and already so upset, Lewis would have given him a tongue-lashing. He hated being disrespected by any of the younger residents in town. Instead, he turned his gaze to Elliott and tried to take on an apologetic tone.

“Elliott, I am very, very sorry about this,” he said. “You have my sincere apologies. I know you had talked about staying in Pelican Town once your lease was up, and I hope this hasn’t changed that.”

“No, it hasn’t,” Elliott said quietly. “But…” 

Robin and Lewis and Sebastian all looked at him. Elliott kept his gaze on the sand. Whatever he was going to say, he shook his head and let it pass. “Never mind,” he said, voice still soft.

Lewis looked back at Robin. “Are we done here?” he asked.

“For now,” she said. “I’ll be checking to make sure Leah gets that refund.”

“I’m sure you will, Robin,” Lewis said, turning and stalking back toward town.

Robin let out a long breath as Lewis departed and seemed to deflate somewhat. She looked to Elliott, regret in her eyes. “Elliott, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m so very sorry. I never…” she trailed off. “I should have insisted on making an inspection when I heard he was renting this place out. I didn’t even know it had furniture in it. I didn’t know it was supposed to be a home. And now…” her brows furrowed and she shook her head.

“It’s hardly your fault, Robin,” Elliott said, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and he did his best to give her a wan smile. “You’re looking out for me. You’ve been very kind. I’m grateful.”

Robin managed to reflect his ghost of a smile. “At the very least, we can help you move,” she said. “Sebastian brought the truck. We can use that to get your things loaded up.”

Elliott nodded and pulled his phone out. “I… I should call Leah,” he said. “If she’s not able to have me, then…”

“Then we’ll host you,” Robin said, her tone brooking no argument. “And I won’t hear no for an answer.”

Elliott managed a small smile, his eyes glistening with a hint of wetness. “You’re very kind,” he said again, quietly, and moved off away from Robin and Sebastian, dialing a number and putting the phone to his ear.

Robin looked to Sebastian, the regret in her eyes deepening. “I’m so sorry, Sebastian,” she said.

“You – mom, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he said. “If you’d let him think it was safe to live there and he got killed in a bad storm, then you’d have something to apologize for.”

Robin looked as though there was something she desperately wanted to say but couldn’t quite get it out. Eventually, she simply drew Sebastian into a hug, rubbing his back. Sebastian was surprised, but let it happen. His stomach hadn’t stopped twisting itself into a knot ever since he had taken the call earlier. He had never seen Elliott look so defeated. He understood why. He would have been devastated to be turned out of his home, to have the rug pulled out from under him like Elliott had had happen to him.

He leaned into Robin, closing his eyes. “I don’t want him to go, mom,” he said quietly. It was the closest he’d come to admitting to Robin how important Elliott was to him.

“I know,” Robin said quietly, tightening her arms around her son. “I know, Sebby. I don’t want him to go, either. He’s…” she hesitated. Sebastian was both desperate for and terrified of what might come out of her mouth next. “He’s a wonderful guy,” she settled on, which somehow managed to straddle the line between being disappointing and immensely relieving. “And I know you two have become such close friends.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian managed to get out. It wasn’t a lie. Elliott _was_ his friend. Probably one of the best friends he’d ever had. It was just that he was so much more than that. Elliott had somehow become the most important person in his life. Sebastian swallowed hard. “I just…”

“Leah says it’s fine.” Sebastian and Robin both startled. Somehow neither had noticed Elliott coming back over to where they stood. Sebastian looked over at him. If Elliott had been in a better mood, Sebastian might have suspected he had done that on purpose, just to make them jump, but he looked exhausted. He looked as though all his energy was gone and he had nothing left.

“Then let’s start getting you packed up,” Robin said with determination. “The sooner we get you over there, the better. We’ll both help, right?” she asked, looking at Sebastian.

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, looking up at Elliott. “And if you can’t…” he hesitated. “If it’s too much, mom and I can handle it.”

“No – no, of course not,” Elliott said, managing to look at Sebastian. The vague look in his eyes worried Sebastian sick. “Of course, I’ll… let me just think about what I have to take and what I can risk leaving here.”

The next fifteen minutes passed with Elliott moving through his cabin, opening a few drawers and making notes about what he needed to take. His computer, of course. He had to have that in case Cynthia needed any edits done. His clothing, naturally. His toiletries, without question. But the rest, Elliott seemed hesitant about. He eventually just sat at the table and put his head in his hands. 

“I’m so sorry,” he managed to get out. “I must seem completely pathetic.”

“Absolutely not,” Robin said firmly. She took a seat across from him. Her eyes were determined. “You’ve just gone through a major shock. This is completely normal.”

“And you…” Sebastian began. His voice died in his throat. All the things he wanted to say, the reassurances, the promises of better times ahead, all of it had to do with them being together. And, coward that he was, he wasn’t ready to say that in front of mom just yet. He gave Elliott’s shoulder a squeeze. “You have people who care about you. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

Elliott managed a small smile at that, looking up at Sebastian and then across the table at Robin. “I have to admit, there aren’t many people I’d trust to make sure I wasn’t falling to pieces more,” he said quietly.

Sebastian blinked back a sudden heat in his eyes. He wanted to push everything and everyone else in the world away, to hold Elliott, to stroke his hair, to reassure him things would be okay, to tell him how they didn’t need anybody or anything else, how they would be able to make it through anything if they just held onto each other.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t, and he knew it. He could barely take care of himself, how was he supposed to take care of Elliott, too? Elliott had always been the responsible one, the one who reassured him, the optimist. Seeing Elliott barely keep from falling to pieces made Sebastian feel even more helpless than usual.

And then the noise started. The sound of footsteps – multiple pairs of footsteps – over the bridge. Robin and Elliott and Sebastian all looked up and at each other. Clearly, none of them knew what to make of the approaching sound.

Leah was the first one into the cabin, moving immediately into the kitchen. Shane and Marnie were after her, both looking for direction.

“I’ll take care of his mugs, Shane, you start with the books. Marnie, you can grab his clothes,” Leah said, starting to open the cabinets and pulling some mugs out, resting them on the counter.

Sebastian blinked, scarcely able to respond to the sudden flurry of movement through the cabin.

“Starling, what –” Elliott’s confusion had managed to replace his angst, at least temporarily. He glanced from Leah to Marnie to Shane and finally back to Leah. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“You are in need of a moving team,” Leah said, carefully pulling one mug at a time from the cabinet and resting them on the counter. “So I went across to the ranch and asked to borrow the truck. And Marnie volunteered herself and Shane to come and pitch in.”

“Many hands make light work,” Marnie said, carefully folding Elliott’s shirts and stacking them next to the dresser.

“But, I…” Elliott clearly didn’t know what to say or do. Sebastian met Robin’s gaze and she nodded, standing up.

“Elliott, why don’t we go get your bathroom packed up?” she asked carefully, helping him stand. “Sebastian should be able to take care of the computer. If we all pitch in, this should be done in no time.”

“I – yes, I suppose,” Elliott said, casting a look back at Sebastian. _Help me,_ the look clearly said.

Sebastian managed a smile and said, “Don’t worry. We’ll get you out of here before you know it,” he said.

Elliott’s lips twitched upward in an approximation of a smile, and then Robin was escorting him into the bathroom to start getting his toiletries and towels assembled.

Sebastian walked to the computer and checked to make sure it wasn’t on before he knelt and unplugged it, starting to disassemble the cords and connections. Elliott had a very basic PC, the sort of thing he could break down in his sleep. _Maybe he would like me to help build him a new computer._ The thought cheered Sebastian a bit. It would be something nice he could do for Elliott. And building a computer was actually pretty fun. It was almost like adult Legos.

“How many books does one dude need?” Shane grumbled from next to Sebastian. Sebastian looked over, smiling a bit. Shane was trying to stack the books so that they didn’t fall over, no doubt moving them out of their alphabetization or however else Elliott had organized them. The bookcase wouldn’t be coming with him. It was built into the walls.

“It’s his bread and butter,” Sebastian said, turning back to the computer. “He probably has most of those memorized. I know he knows where every single one is in that bookcase.”

Shane glanced over to Sebastian, then back to his work. “I didn’t know you knew him so well,” he said offhandedly.

Sebastian’s muscles tensed and he froze in the midst of loosening the monitor cable from the back of the CPU. He swallowed. “He’s my friend,” he said, trying to speak evenly. _What does he know? What do any of them know?_ “He’s – he’s been good to me. That’s why I’m helping him out.”

“Must be nice,” Shane said. Sebastian glanced over again and saw Shane sitting on the ground, looking at a slender book. Sebastian glanced at the artistic photograph of a Ferris wheel in sepia on the cover. He looked to the title. _The Boys of My Youth._ Elliott had never mentioned the book to him. But the title stuck in Sebastian. Maybe he would ask Elliott about it later.

“What must be nice?” Sebastian asked.

Shane shrugged, not taking his eyes off the book. “You got lots of friends,” he said simply. As though he hadn’t been looking at the book carefully, he dropped it on one of the piles of paperbacks. Sebastian winced slightly. He knew Elliott would be horrified to see his books handled like this, but there was no doubt Shane was moving faster than Sebastian or Elliott himself would.

“Not that many,” Sebastian said, looking back at the computer. He was quiet for a moment. Then a memory crept up from the recesses of his mind. “Actually – he said he tried to talk to you when he first got here,” Sebastian said. “You told him to fuck off.”

Shane gave a mirthless chuckle. “That scans,” he said dryly. “Probably was throwing all sorts of words around that I hadn’t ever heard.”

“He’s not a bad guy, Shane,” Sebastian said, his voice a little sharper than he intended. Shane looked over at him, clearly picking up on the tone. _Shit. Dial it back._ Sebastian exhaled. “He’d be your friend, too. If you let him,” he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. “Probably a lot of people would. If you let them.”

Shane scoffed, but Sebastian could tell his heart wasn’t really in it. He tucked his legs under himself and moved to organizing books by size. “Yeah, ‘cause that’s what everybody in town is lining up to do, make friends with the guy who’s drinking himself to death,” he said.

“It’d help if you weren’t such an asshole every time someone tried to be nice,” Sebastian said. He could practically feel his tongue turning black from the hypocrisy. He’d certainly had his share of lashing out or being prickly or not trusting someone who was trying to reach out to him. “Becca practically had to stuff you with a factory’s worth of pizza before you stopped biting her head off.”

At the mention of Becca, Sebastian could see Shane’s eyes soften. He stopped sorting books and let out a long breath. Sebastian was suddenly hit with a hot flash of guilt. Shane was here, helping out when he certainly didn’t have to, and Sebastian was being rude to him. He swallowed.

“Hey,” he said. Shane turned to look at him. “…’m sorry,” Sebastian mumbled. “I…” he swallowed. “Thanks, Shane. Seriously. Thanks for helping Elliott. I know it means a lot to him.”

Shane was quiet. He let out another long breath. “I know what it’s like to feel like the world got pulled out from under you,” he said quietly. Without another word, he moved back to sorting books. Sebastian watched Shane for a moment. Even with his new beer belly and a few days’ stubble, he could still see the hints of the athlete Shane had once been. Shane was about five, maybe six years older than Sebastian. When he was younger, Shane had been the toast of Pelican Town, the one who was going to make good, the star. He’d been gregarious, always laughing, spending time with the kids. Alex Mullner learned to throw a gridball from playing catch with Shane. Everybody knew Shane Nogales was destined for greatness. He was going to get a full ride scholarship to any university in Ferngill he wanted to go to, and probably would go pro after that.

One car ride was all it took to crush that dream. Shane had been unable to walk for six months after, had needed crutches for almost a year after that. As soon as he was old enough, he started drinking to dull the pain. Gus was quick to cut him off when it got to be too much, but Shane found ways to order beer, to have it sent directly to the ranch or to friends’ houses where he would pick it up from. He was drunk more often than he was sober in those days. Marnie’s worry lines deepened around her eyes and mouth and on her forehead, and she’d tried to help Shane wherever she could. Sebastian had heard her talking to mom on the days when she would come up to their house, desperate to have someone to talk to who she could rely on.

Shane had eventually left Pelican Town, had gone to live in the city with his friends. Jas’s parents. The ones who eventually died, which sent him back with a little girl and an addiction he hadn’t managed to buck yet. Marnie had wept in the saloon that day, while everyone consoled her, told her Shane would be fine. Sebastian had been there that night. The whole family had been. They’d eaten out for dinner. He’d seen the look of despair on Marnie’s face. He’d seen how she’d ordered a few cocktails. And he’d watched as Lewis carefully put an arm around her and escorted her out.

As near as Sebastian could tell, that was when the worst-kept secret in town started. It wasn’t just Lewis’s mismanagement of money that made him dislike the mayor so intently. Marnie deserved so much better.

Leah brought a few boxes in from outside, _Nogales Ranch_ stamped on each of them. No doubt they had been lying around and Marnie had offered to use them to help Elliott move. Sebastian glanced over to Marnie, who was folding each of Elliott’s shirts and ties with care. Gratitude swelled inside of him, gratitude for Marnie and Shane and Leah, who came out to help Elliott without even a moment’s notice. He wound the last of the cords and moved over to pick up one of the boxes.

The process of packing up Elliott’s things took much less time than Sebastian had feared. By the time Robin and Elliott left the bathroom, the cabin was almost completely ready to go. Elliott paused and looked around, then fixed his eyes on the boxes, all carefully labeled with a thick pen Leah had brought.

“You –” Elliott began. He swallowed and glanced back around. “You got everything,” he said.

“I’m not going to promise that you can unpack everything, but it’ll be ready for when you move into your new place in a couple of months,” Leah said.

Elliott nodded slowly. The look on his face worried Sebastian sick. He had never seen Elliott look this unsure or worried.

Robin put a hand on Elliott’s arm and he turned to her. “Why don’t we get this loaded up in the truck, and then you take however long you need to say goodbye to this place?” she asked gently. “And then we can go. I’ll treat you to dinner tonight. All of you,” she said, looking around to Marnie and Leah and Shane. “Thank you all very much.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Marnie said. She moved over and gave Elliott a hug, which seemed to surprise him, but made a small smile come to his face as he hugged her back. Marnie pulled back and put her hands on Elliott’s shoulders. “You’re a Pelican Town local now. And we take care of each other here,” she said, tone stern but eyes soft. “You understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Elliott said, a small chuckle escaping him. “Thank you again. So much.”

One by one, the others filed out. Sebastian paused at the door, looking back at Elliott. He wanted desperately to stay with him, to hold him and kiss him and promise things would be all right. But Elliott wasn’t even looking at him. He was moving around the cabin, gently running his hand over a table, the back of a chair, the bookcase.

Sebastian stepped out and closed the door behind him. He stood awkwardly on the porch with the other four. Nobody seemed to know what to say. And then, Sebastian heard a noise that nearly broke his heart. The piano, played quietly, a few keys here and there. He had fixed the piano for Elliott. Elliott had played so beautifully for him, and held him afterward, and Sebastian had fallen asleep in his arms. That was the day he’d started to fall for Elliott completely. And now Elliott was playing his piano, probably for the last time.

Sebastian swallowed, but the lump wouldn’t clear from his throat. He kept his gaze down until the music stopped, and then he heard footsteps coming to the door.

Elliott was wiping at his eyes as he left, but he put on as brave a face as he could. “I’m ready,” he said quietly.

~~~

Elliott couldn’t remember the last time he was such poor company at dinner. He kept having to look up and apologize and ask whoever had spoken to repeat him or herself. The saloon felt somehow both too crowded and overwhelmingly empty.

After they had moved all his things into Leah’s cabin, Robin had texted Demetrius and Maru and told them to meet her and Sebastian and Elliott at the saloon for dinner. Whatever she had told them, they were all sad smiles and efforts at cheering him up. He appreciated the thought, though it felt hollow. Everything felt hollow.

Leah joined them, of course, and had bought him a glass of wine. He’d limited himself to one. He didn’t want to fall into morose weeping at the table, which he knew he would if he drank too much. And Marnie and Shane came by a bit later, forcing their party to spread out to two adjoining tables.

But the rest of the saloon – save for Gus and Emily and Pam – was empty. It was a Thursday night. Elliott rarely came to the saloon any day other than Friday, when it was at its most alive. He felt tired. He found it hard to keep up with the conversation. Mercifully, everyone seemed to realize that he wasn’t in the mood to talk and did their best to pretend as though everything was normal.

Except for Sebastian. Every time Elliott looked up at Sebastian, he could see the concern in the younger man’s eyes. He could see the uncertainty and the worry and the fear. It made Elliott feel all the worse, and so he kept his attention on the table.

“All right,” Emily said lightly as she and Gus appeared, bearing plates in hand. “Eight servings of today’s special.” She began passing out plates of fried mushrooms and green salad to everyone, taking care to gently set Elliott’s down in front of him. He looked up with a small, grateful smile. She smiled back, thankfully not taking the opportunity to promise him things would be fine.

“Anything else we can get you?” Gus asked after he and Emily were done with their balancing act and the party all had meals in front of them.

Robin raised a finger. “Do you have any desserts in the back?” she asked.

“I have some blueberry tart leftover from yesterday,” Gus said. “Not quite enough for all of you, but I could split it up into smaller portions.” Elliott could feel Gus’s kind eyes pass over him. “Tell you what. On the house. I wasn’t going to sell it anyway, you’re doing me a favor.”

“You’re a gem, Gus,” Marnie said, smiling at him.

Gus chuckled, reaching for a pitcher of water and carefully refilling glasses as he moved around the table. “Only if you’re talking about fool’s gold,” he said, filling Maru’s glass last and leaving it on the table. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate.” He and Emily departed, moving back behind the bar.

Elliott picked up his fork and began mindlessly cutting up his mushrooms with the tines. They were crisp on the outside and soft enough in the middle to fall apart with just a little pressure. He began to eat, and was surprised to realize he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten anything since the morning. Since just before Robin had arrived.

Elliott had seen the guilt on Robin’s face. He could tell she felt terrible that she had to be the bearer of bad news. No doubt it was why she was taking care of him now. Why she had offered to pay for everyone’s meal. He had thought the day would end in the opposite way, with him paying Robin for her services. He had carefully set aside money each week until he felt he had enough to cover what was necessary. He had been so careful. _So_ bloody careful. He had plans. Plans for what he would do. Plans to make a proper home that he might offer to share with Sebastian one day.

_And now who knows if that will ever happen?_

He was feeling sorry for himself, he knew. It was a terrible character flaw, the way he could fall into ennui and misery this easily. Unlike many of the other times when he had felt sorry for himself, this was one time he didn’t feel rotten for doing so. He’d been knocked clean off his feet, had seen all of his things packed, some carefully, others less so – Shane had been a bit slapdash with the books, Elliott had spent nearly an hour carefully pressing down covers and pages after he got to Leah’s – and had no idea what tomorrow would bring.

And then he felt a few fingers on his own. Sebastian had slid his hand over to rest on Elliott’s. Sebastian carefully intertwined their fingers, not quite holding hands, not exactly, but the sort of expression of affection that Elliott needed so very badly. When Sebastian had held him earlier on the beach, when he had pressed his lips against Elliott’s, it had been the only thing holding Elliott back from completely crumbling. He hadn’t lost Sebastian. Not yet. Maybe not ever. This was a setback. It was going to be awful, just awful, trying to figure out how to navigate things while he was living at Leah’s. But it wasn’t the end of it.

Elliott squeezed Sebastian’s fingers – he didn’t have his whole hand held and didn’t want to obviously be adjusting his grip – and couldn’t keep a small smile from his face when Sebastian squeezed back.

Dinner and wine made Elliott feel a trifle better. And the blueberry tart, when Gus brought it out, cut into slightly smaller portions than they would normally get, was delicious. Gus had even thrown in some ice cream on top.

Elliott looked down at his plate, at the scoop of ice cream on top already starting to melt slightly onto the warm tart. Mum had always made sure desserts on special occasions were served à la mode. Holidays, birthdays, even just days where he had had a rough day at school, the scoop of ice cream made him smile slightly. Elliott felt heat at the back of his eyes once more.

He had called mum and dad just a few days earlier, to tell them of his book being finished and accepted for publication, and how he was going to try to buy the house – he’d called it a house, no need to make them worry – he had been living in. It had taken a few tries for mum to properly put her phone on speaker, but once he had been able to talk to both of them, they had been chuffed to bits for him, both of them gushing about how proud they were.

_“We’ll be out there as soon as you’re settled darling,” mum had said as they got ready to end their call. “You just give us the word and we’ll be to the airport and on a plane. We’ve missed you so much. We can’t wait to see you again.”_

Elliott took a bite of the blueberry tart, making sure to get a bit of ice cream with it as he did. The blueberries were soft, the tart crust crisp, and the ice cream added a pleasant bit of cool along with the heat of the dessert. It was delicious. Just the sort of thing he would want on a warm summer’s evening.

_I’m sorry, mum. I’m sorry I can’t do anything right._

As the meal came to a close, Marnie excused herself, saying she needed to pick Jas up from the Fischers’. She passed by Elliott and reached over his chair, hugging him from behind. Elliott managed a smile and brought an arm up to hug her back.

“You’ll be okay, sweetheart,” Marnie said quietly. “You’re going to land on your feet. I’ve got a feeling about it.”

“You’re very kind. Thank you so much, Marnie, for all your help,” Elliott said. Marnie kissed his temple and stepped back, waving as she headed to the door.

With Marnie gone, Shane quickly finished his dessert and wiped his mouth. “I’m gonna head out, too,” he said. “Thanks, Robin. It was great.” He stood, pushing his chair in. He turned to Elliott, pausing awkwardly. “Hey, uh…” he began.

Elliott turned to Shane. “Yes?” he asked.

“I’m really sorry about your place,” Shane mumbled, half looking at Elliott and half at the floor. “You seem like a cool guy. You don’t deserve it.”

Elliott’s eyes softened. He could tell this was about as demonstrative as Shane got. “Thank you, Shane,” he said. He held out his hand and Shane took it, giving it a quick shake before he turned and made his way for the door.

Robin pulled some money from her wallet, leaving it on the bill that Gus had discreetly slipped onto the table when he made his last round to pick up plates. She looked to Elliott. “Is there absolutely anything else that we can do for you, Elliott?” she asked. “Anything at all?”

Elliott let out a long, shuddering breath. “Nothing that – well, nothing that I can think of, thank you,” he said, giving her a small, weary smile. “You’ve been very kind. All of you have,” he said, looking from Robin to Demetrius to Maru to Leah and finally to Sebastian. The look of pain in Sebastian’s eyes was one that Elliott was sure mirrored his own.

_I’m so sorry, darling. I’m so sorry. I had so many plans. There were so many things I wanted to do._

“If you even need to just get away for a couple of days, our guest room’s always open,” Demetrius said. He stood, pushing his chair in. “You know you’re always welcome, Elliott.”

“I appreciate it very much,” Elliott said. The lump in his throat seemed more settled in than before.

Slowly, the six of them stood, gathering bags and shuffling for the door. As they passed the bar, Pam looked up.

“Hey, kid,” she called to Elliott. Elliott turned to look at her.

“Me?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Pam said, setting her mug down. She let out a long breath through her nose. “Sometimes life just sucks,” she said. “And there ain’t nothing to be done about it. You learn to embrace the suck and it doesn’t sting so bad next time.”

Elliott’s smile was a bit more genuine at that. “That’s… very good advice, Pam. Thank you,” he said. He stepped over and put an arm around her, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “I appreciate your wisdom,” he said.

Pam grinned up at him. “If I knew it was gonna get me some sugar, I’d have started talking crap to you months ago,” she said.

Elliott actually laughed at that, a sound that surprised him as much as it did everyone else. He squeezed Pam’s shoulders again and stepped away, offering her a slight bow. “Enjoy your evening, madam,” he said.

Pam raised her mug and turned back to take a swig. Elliott turned and made his way toward the door, feeling the unsure energy of his dining companions following him. None of them really knew what to say. At the door, he accepted a handshake from Demetrius and a hug from Robin. Maru stepped up to him and gave him a tight hug. She leaned in and murmured quietly, “You’re really good for Seb. I know you mean a lot to him. Thank you.”

Elliott closed his eyes, hugging Maru back. “He means very much to me, as well,” he said quietly.

Maru pulled back, adjusting her glasses as she did. She squeezed Elliott’s shoulder and stepped off to the side.

Sebastian watched as his family moved a slight distance away, seeming to give him and Elliott some privacy. Leah had already walked a short distance down the path to her cabin. He put his arms around Elliott, embracing him as tightly as he could. Elliott returned the hug full bore, closing his eyes tightly and not wanting to let go.

“If you need anything. Literally anything, please tell me. Please,” Sebastian whispered. “Please. I – I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” Elliott whispered. He gently kissed the crown of Sebastian’s head. “You are…” he let out a shuddering breath. “You are the very best thing that has ever happened to me, in my entire life. I would have been completely undone if you weren’t with me today.”

“Text me or call me any time, even if it’s early,” Sebastian said.

Elliott chuckled grimly. “You really do care,” he said wryly.

Sebastian pulled back and Elliott could see the seriousness in his eyes. “Yeah, I do,” he said, voice barely audible. He put his hand on Elliott’s cheek. “I…” he swallowed. Whatever he wanted to do or say, this didn’t seem to be the right time. Elliott put his hand over Sebastian’s and squeezed it.

“Please be patient with me,” Elliott said softly. “Please, I…” he swallowed. “I don’t handle sudden change well. I may be a bit moody or morose. It’s not you. It’s never you.”

“I know,” Sebastian said. He glanced over to where his family was waiting and his stomach clenched. “They’re gonna get suspicious,” he said reluctantly.

Elliott managed a smile. “Go on, then,” he said, pulling Sebastian in for one last hug before releasing him. “I’ll… I’ll let you know how things are going.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said. He took a few steps back from Elliott, not looking from his face. Then he turned and put his hands in his pockets, walking back to where Robin and Demetrius and Maru stood by the truck.

Elliott turned and began the slow walk from the center of town. Leah’s cabin was just on the outskirts of Pelican Town, barely south of Marnie’s ranch. He had visited her many times before. He had told her the first time she showed him the cabin how charming and serene it was.

 _“I’d be so lucky to end up living somewhere like this,”_ he had told her. It was a lesson in being careful what you wish for, no doubt.

Elliott passed through the light copse of trees at the end of Willow Lane and emerged into Cindersap Forest. He had only ever walked here before today, before he had accepted a ride in Robin’s truck, and moved boxes into Leah’s cabin. The cabin, nestled peacefully against the river, was just to the left as he entered the forest. Leah was waiting outside the front door, and she smiled as he approached.

“Everything go all right with loverboy?” she asked gently.

“Not today, please,” Elliott said wearily. “Please. I – I appreciate the attempt at lightening the mood, but…”

“I got it,” Leah said, putting her hand on his back and gently guiding him inside. Elliott looked around the interior of her cabin. With his boxes stacked against one wall, there was less room than usual, but it was still larger than the inside of his cabin. His old cabin. It wasn’t his anymore. He moved over to take a seat at her dining table, the only real source of seating in her place aside from her bed.

As soon as he sat down, the weariness that had been hovering around Elliott all day dropped and weighed on him like a warm, wet quilt. And, like that same quilt, it scratched at and clung to him and made him feel like it was hard to breathe.

He felt a hand rest lightly on his shoulder and looked up. Leah was smiling down at him, her eyes belying her worry. 

“It’s going to be okay,” she assured him, for what must have been the fifteenth time that day. Elliott managed a wan smile.

“I suppose it will,” he said quietly. He stood and stretched his shoulders. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go for a short walk before settling in for the evening,” he said. “I need to clear my head.”

“Sure,” Leah said, nodding. “Do you want company, or…?”

“I don’t think I’m very good company right now, starling. But thank you. I won’t be long,” Elliott said. Before Leah could protest, he moved to the door and stepped outside, closing it behind him.

He truly was lucky, he knew that. He had people who cared about him. Leah, and Sebastian, and Robin. If they hadn’t come to his rescue, Yoba only knew what he might have done. He followed the river away from Leah’s house, hearing the quiet noises of animals readying for sleep coming from the ranch. His heart pounded in his chest but his mind was curiously blank, as it had been since Robin had told him what had happened.

Elliott remembered everything that had happened that day. He remembered Robin coming over, the repairs she had made or quoted him for, and then how she had discovered what was in the walls. How Sebastian had come and sat by him and tried to comfort him. How what felt like half the town showed up to pack up his things and help move him. How everyone had spent the evening reassuring him, promising him they’d look out for him, that he wouldn’t want for anything.

Elliott had started the morning so full of hope and promise. And he was ending it homeless. It wasn’t the first time – he had slept on Leah’s cabin floor for two weeks or so when he had first arrived in Pelican Town. But this time felt so much worse.

He should have been able to fix this. If he hadn’t been so weak-willed, if he’d complained as he should have that first winter when things were truly awful, maybe the repairs could have been made in time. But he had kept his complaints to himself, had tried to be grateful for the roof over his head, had endured the cold and the salt air and the breakdown of his skin. His skin had never fully recovered from that first winter, even with the ointment Harvey had given him. It would be that way until he could get back on the prescription.

Elliott turned and walked toward the pond and the small dock that jutted out onto it. He sat down heavily, suddenly no longer wishing to walk. He stared into the water, not fully seeing anything. He was homeless. He had nowhere to live. And he had nowhere to be with Sebastian. They couldn’t see each other in Sebastian’s room – that would only do for the occasional indulgence, for spending short bursts of time with each other. They had relied on his cabin. It had been the only place they had made love since coming back from Zuzu City. He had no idea what they were going to do now.

Sebastian was a young man. Younger than Elliott, certainly. He had grown to crave the physical sensations of touch and sex. Without that outlet – 

No. No, Sebastian wouldn’t do that to him. He _wouldn’t._ But Elliott craved it as well. Sebastian always hesitated about being physically demonstrative, clearly not wanting to show outright affection in front of the whole town. Elliott knew this was all still new to Sebastian, but it still stung. He would never admit that; Sebastian would have been destroyed to know that it made Elliott upset. But every time Sebastian shrank from him, tried to keep them secret, Elliott found the sting went a bit deeper.

Elliott slowly moved into lying on his side on the wooden dock. Some strands of his hair drifted over the side of the dock, into the water. He hardly noticed. 

In many ways, staying at Leah’s cabin was an upgrade, even if he did have to sleep on the floor. Leah’s bed was too small to share, and he would never have asked her to share with him. That would have been inappropriate and ungentlemanly. Nor did she have a couch big enough for him to lie on. She had done her best with blankets and pillows, and he tended to prefer a firmer mattress as it was. So that wouldn’t be so bad. He might even get a better night’s sleep than he would on the creaky bed at his cabin.

And her cabin was warm in the winter and cool in the summer. And her bathroom was large, much nicer than his had been, with water pressure the likes of which he could only dream. And she always had fresh food, some of which she foraged herself and some which she bought from Pierre’s. Leah was a gracious hostess. She always had been, ever since their graduate student days at ZSU. He was lucky, truly lucky to have somewhere to land like this.

Why, then, did he feel like he wanted to die?

Elliott curled up on the dock, his shoulders starting to shake. The tears had been threatening most of the day, and now, with no one around to hear or see or offer him pitying words or meaningless platitudes, Elliott let himself sink into the abject misery that had been pushing at him, that he had managed to hold at bay just barely through the kindnesses everyone had shown him. The sobs shook his entire body. His eyes and throat and chest felt hotter than he could ever remember before.

Alone, lying just a few inches above the surface of the pond, Elliott wept. He wept for the unfairness of how life had given him a hint of what happiness could be before snatching it from him. He wept for how he had suffered for so long in that miserable cabin, never knowing what danger he was in the entire time. He wept for the look on Sebastian’s face, the look of not knowing what to do or how to make things better or what to say. He wept for the uncertainty of the future and how everything he had worked for might not be enough to give him the one thing that he wanted.

He would have burnt his entire manuscript if it meant he could stay with Sebastian. And now he had no idea if that would be possible. He wouldn’t be able to know, not until his money started arriving. The options, the possibilities that had seemed so limitless just the day before, had shrunk before his eyes. His path to staying in town, to having his own home, to possibly building that home with Sebastian – it was all so cruelly, heartlessly unsure now. 

And so Elliott wept. He wept until his chest and eyes were sore from having no more tears to cry. In the past, when he had sobbed so deeply, he had felt better afterward, the way a good cry always made him feel like the worst was behind him. But this time, it hadn’t fixed anything. His stomach was still aching, his mind felt flushed with fever, and he had no idea what was going to happen to him.

But he had to keep going. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and used the sleeves of his jacket to wipe his face. He forced himself to breathe deeply, looking up to the moon and the stars and trying to get himself under control. He dried the streaks of tears on his face and continued the slow breaths until he felt as though he could manage a conversation or a discussion without falling to pieces again.

Elliott stood and straightened his coat. He had been gone some time; no doubt Leah would be worried. He wiped at his eyes one last time and willed himself to get his emotions under control.

_You’ve got to keep it together. Nobody’s going to do it for you._

Elliott stepped from the dock and began the short walk back along the river.

_September first. That’s seven weeks. More like six, it’s practically the end of the second week of July. You just have to make it until then. You just have to survive until then. You can endure anything for seven weeks._

Elliott reached Leah’s front door. He took a last moment to compose himself, breathing in and then out. His hand was trembling slightly. He would keep it in his pocket for the evening. No use in Leah asking him if he was all right.

He reached out and placed his hand on the doorknob. He fixed what small smile he could manage on his face. And then he turned the knob, opened the door, and stepped inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooof. This was a hard chapter to write. I knew it was coming, as this was always part of my plan for the story, and it will lead to some important developments down the line, but I really hate writing sad Elliott and Sebastian. This is the first of a few rough spots that they’re going to have to navigate in their relationship, and while I wasn’t looking forward to writing the chapter and it was difficult to get through, I am pleased with how it came out.
> 
> The book Shane glanced at in Elliott’s collection, [_The Boys of My Youth_](https://www.amazon.com/Boys-My-Youth-Ann-Beard/dp/0316085251) by Jo Ann Beard, is one of my top ten favorite books of all time: a gorgeous, lush collection of non-fiction essays written in the most glorious prose. 
> 
> Next week, we’ll see Elliott and Sebastian try to navigate this difficult new arena for their relationship. They’ll have to attempt some compromises, overcome some challenges, and try to be there for each other in this difficult stretch. We are now just shy of halfway through the summer arc, and much of the rest of it will deal with the aftermath of Elliott’s eviction and Sebastian’s anxiety about going public. 
> 
> As a final note, with this chapter, we are on the verge of 4000 hits, which blows my mind. The only other story on AO3 I ever wrote that got to 4000 hits was my _Mortal Kombat_ story “Ice, Storm,” and that story didn’t hit 4000 until after it was finished, at 21 chapters. Now at two-thirds of the installments, we’re on track to hit that, pass it, and keep going. Also – 200 kudos? YOU GUYS. This was my first story ever to get to 100 kudos, and the fact that we’ve now doubled that is absolutely astonishing to me. You’ve been amazingly generous in your feedback and praise, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. Thank you all so much for your wonderful, glowing feedback – you’ve made this story an absolute joy to write. See you next week, guys!


	15. Breathing Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I listened to while writing this chapter was “Constant Craving” by k.d. lang, found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oj82Uu__xso).

“You are never stronger than when you land on the other side of despair.”  
-Zadie Smith

The first week after Elliott’s impromptu eviction notice, Sebastian was almost certain he was going to go around the bend. He had told Elliott to text him at any time. He had told him that he would be there whenever, if Elliott needed him. He had even finished his existing jobs and then held off on taking any others, just so he would be free and available for when Elliott needed him. He didn’t want Elliott to have to wait.

But Elliott didn’t text him. Sebastian had expected the first couple of days, Elliott would need to take time to adjust. It didn’t bother him when he didn’t hear from Elliott on Friday or Saturday, even Sunday. But then he started to worry. He started to wonder if he had done something wrong, if he should have said something, offered something, done something – 

He didn’t know. Being in a relationship was completely new to Sebastian, and he was trying to figure out what to do. Elliott had warned him that he might be emotional or moody. That would have been completely understandable. But Sebastian had no idea what to make of complete radio silence. The last time he had gone so long without talking to Elliott in some way was after he had taken Elliott home from the Stardrop, the night Elliott had kissed his cheek and Sebastian’s emotions had flared and he began to realize how much he actually craved Elliott touching him. The weeks after that, two long, miserable, horrible weeks, had been among the worst of his life. At least now, he had some understanding of why Elliott might not feel like being up to talking or texting.

Still, he worried. He couldn’t figure out what to say, or if he even should say anything. And it wasn’t like he could ask advice. He’d put himself into this trap of not telling anyone about himself and Elliott, and now it meant that he didn’t have anyone to talk to about his worries. Shit, Elliott usually _was_ the one who he talked to about his worries.

So he went to the Stardrop on Friday to play pool, and then to band practice on Saturday, but he kept checking his phone every few minutes just in case he had missed anything from Elliott. He didn’t hear anything. Sunday, either.

By Monday, Sebastian had cleared all his work and other responsibilities, and woke up earlier than he normally would. He moved to his phone and checked it to see if any messages had come in overnight. Nothing.

By Tuesday, Sebastian had taken to checking his phone every five minutes, just in case a call or a text had come in and he hadn’t seen it. Nothing.

By Wednesday, Sebastian didn’t remove his eyes from his phone. He kept it plugged onto the charger and mindlessly flipped from webpage to app to webpage to app, trying to find something to take his mind off the stress of not having heard from Elliott. It was about three in the afternoon that he finally broke down and pulled up his text. The last message in there was the night before Robin had discovered the rot in Elliott’s walls. It was from Elliott. Sebastian had read it probably four hundred times in the last week.

_It’s a beautiful night on the beach. I can hear the waves caressing the shore and the quiet noises of gulls settling in for sleep. I sat out on the sand earlier and let the breeze waft around me. It was so blessedly cool after the heat of the day. The only way the moment could have been more perfect is if you were there with me. I long for your touch. I crave it. Perhaps Friday after you play pool, we might spend some time at my cabin? I hope we can. I miss you, my handsome muse. I adore you._

The text came through in separate messages. No doubt Elliott’s phone was old enough that it limited texts by character. Sebastian had worked several hours in a row on a project the night Elliott had sent the text, and he hadn’t responded to it yet. He felt his stomach pull a bit tighter every time he read it. Elliott’s words were always so beautiful. The way he put them together was more like music than lyrics. Sebastian could find himself getting lost in Elliott’s words, falling into them and being borne along as though he were in a dream.

He always felt so inadequate trying to respond to Elliott’s words. But he had to know. The anxiety was starting to get him ramped up. If he didn’t pull the trigger, he was going to drive himself completely crazy. He started a message, then stopped, then deleted, then started again, going back every few words to try and convey what he needed to say. Eventually, he had something he was… okay with. Not happy, he wasn’t ever going to be happy trying to write anything to Elliott, but okay.

_**Hey. I haven’t heard anything from you in a week. I’m really worried. Please let me know how you are. I miss you.** _

Before he could stop himself, Sebastian hit send, and then put his phone to the side and placed his hands on his face, groaning. He hated this. He hated bothering Elliott. Elliott was probably dealing with his own stuff right now. The last thing he needed was to be reassuring Sebastian that everything was going to be –

His phone beeped. Sebastian grabbed it and pressed the unlock button, heart pounding.

_I’m so sorry. I’ve been in quite a state. I should have messaged you days ago. I’m doing well enough, I suppose. Leah has been making me go for walks with her in the forest, and I’ve taken to going up to visit Becca or Marnie when I can. I haven’t been back to the beach since the day I left. I miss the salt air, but I don’t know if I can bear to see the cabin again this soon. I miss you as well, terribly. I want to see you. How have you been?_

Sebastian’s heart pounded in his chest as his fingers tapped out a quick reply.

_**I’m okay. I’ve been getting some work done. Not a lot. I kept checking my phone. When can I see you?** _

_Soon, I hope. I’ve been trying to be subtle about things with Leah. She’s nosy in the way only a best friend can be. I’m sure you’ve encountered the same thing with Sam._

Sebastian snorted and a smile came to his face despite himself.

_**You have no idea. For someone as oblivious as Sam is, when he does notice something, he has to know everything about it. When I first dyed my hair, I left school at lunch to buy the box of hair dye at a local drugstore. He wouldn’t stop asking me the entire ride home what I had in the bag. I almost punched him.** _

_That seems very much like it would be akin to punching a Labrador puppy. How could you possibly be so cruel to that poor, incredibly overenthusiastic boy?_

_**I didn’t actually punch him. I just thought about it. A lot. And the next day, when we got on the bus, he didn’t even notice my hair was black.** _

_You are joking._

_**I wish I was. He tried the excuse later that he just hadn’t had any Joja Cola that morning, but I didn’t even say anything about it for three days. Then Abby asked him what he thought about my new hair and he looked like he’d just stuck a fork in the electric socket.** _

_Bless him, the poor lamb. It must be difficult going through life without ever noticing anything._

_**He seems to make it work.** _

Sebastian rolled over on his stomach. Before Elliott could type out a reply, his fingers moved quickly, tapping out a message.

_**I’m going to go crazy if I can’t see you. Can I meet you today somewhere in town? It doesn’t have to be long, I just want to see you.** _

He hit send before he could stop himself and stared at the phone. His stomach clenched. Was he pushing Elliott? Elliott didn’t seem ready to meet up. Maybe he was just lying on the couch, eating tons of ice cream, hating everything in the world. Even Sebastian. He was being too pushy. He was –

His phone beeped again and Sebastian glanced at it, simultaneously dreading and hoping for the message.

_I promised Leah I would help her around the cabin today. But tomorrow I have to run to Pierre’s to pick up some groceries. Leah claims I’m eating her out of house and home. I was planning to be there around two p.m. I’d love to see you, if you can make it._

Sebastian felt relief spread over him. His fingers flew as he typed out a response.

_**Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow, then. I miss you like crazy.** _

He put his phone on his chest and closed his eyes. He knew Elliott was somewhere safe, that he was with someone who cared about him, that he wouldn’t come to any harm. It still made him feel itchy under his skin to be this far from Elliott. He craved him, being near him, feeling him. He wanted to be with Elliott again.

His phone beeped one more time and Sebastian looked at the text.

_I miss you, too. More than you can possibly know, darling. I can’t wait to see you._

~~~

Leah preferred reusable grocery bags. Elliott had always meant to pick some up himself, but somehow never remembered to do so. She made sure that he had them before he left to walk the short distance into town and to Pierre’s.

The summer heat had settled in completely by now, and Elliott found himself leaving his overcoat at home – well, at Leah’s home – more often than not. It was just too miserable with it on, and he found that he missed the fresh sea breeze more than he thought he would. Pelican Town in late July was just _hot_ everywhere. Even when he lived on the beach, he had found that it was nearly impossible to escape the heat unless he went to the library or the general store or someone’s home where there was air conditioning. Leah’s cabin didn’t have air conditioning, but the river acted as a natural coolant. It was pleasant in the morning and in the evening, but during the day both Elliott and Leah found themselves wanting to get out of the house. Leah often went for walks in the forest, and Elliott joined her on occasion.

He was grateful for Leah, tremendously grateful. She was the reason he ended up in Pelican Town to begin with, and now she was the reason he still had somewhere to stay. She’d followed his lead on conversation and hadn’t tried to ask him about his plans or what he wanted to do or how things were going with Sebastian or anything that made him uncomfortable. Most of what they spoke about in the evenings, sitting with a glass of wine at the table or a glass of iced tea on the couch or in the dark – Leah in her bed, Elliott in his carefully-arranged pallet on the floor – were old times. Friends they had or hadn’t kept up with, memories from back in Zuzu City, stories of their childhood that they might or might not have told each other at one point.

The past was comfortable. Even when it was uncomfortable, there was a security to it, a sense of nestling in, of being surrounded by the way things were. It meant Elliott didn’t have to worry about the future. About the way things might be.

Jodi Fischer was out in her front yard, hanging laundry, when Elliott walked onto Willow Lane. Jodi balanced the laundry basket on her hip and waved, then reached up to pull the clothespin from her mouth.

“Hello, Elliott,” she said.

“Jodi, good afternoon,” Elliott said, smiling. He didn’t know Jodi very well, but she had always been pleasant enough. He knew her mostly as Sam’s mother, as someone who was always there in the background. A reliable member of the theatre troupe who never seemed to get a lead role. He paused outside the gate leading up to the Fischer home. “I have to admit, I haven’t seen anyone hang their sheets in some time,” he said.

Jodi smiled, more quietly than softly. “It’s just the sheets, everything else goes in the dryer,” she said. She turned back to the gentle rustling of the sheet in the summer air. “There’s nothing quite like resting in sheets that have been dried in the fresh air. They smell sweet. They make it easier to fall asleep, especially in the summer when everything is so hot and sticky.” She turned back to Elliott. “Elliott, I’m – Sam told me about what happened with your cabin. I just wanted to say how sorry I was to hear.”

“Oh, that’s – well, that’s very kind of you,” Elliott said, feeling the discomfort settle in whenever he had to think too much about what had happened. “I’ve been staying with Leah for the time being. She’s been quite gracious to host me. I hope to find my own place to stay again before long.”

Jodi nodded. “Will you be staying here or looking somewhere else?” she asked.

“Here, hopefully,” Elliott said, hoping that his voice wasn’t tight. The thought of leaving Pelican Town – and Sebastian – was more than he could bear.

Jodi glanced back to her laundry, then up at the sky. She seemed to be thinking of something, but what, Elliott had no idea. Then she spoke. “I can’t imagine being your age and wanting to settle down somewhere like Pelican Town,” she said. “Wouldn’t you be much happier in Grampleton or Zuzu City? Somewhere there are things happening, where you can… be somebody?” The tone of her voice was an attempt at lightness, but Elliott could hear the murmur of anger underneath.

He had no idea how to respond. Jodi wasn’t _that_ much older than him. If Sam was Sebastian’s age, or thereabouts, she was probably in her early forties. Young enough to have a son who was only five or six.

“I came here from Zuzu City,” he said, trying to strike a friendly, noncommittal tone. “It certainly had its appeals, but I wasn’t very happy there. You know the old saying about Zuzu? It’s a nice place to visit…”

“…but you wouldn’t want to live there,” Jodi finished. She nodded. “I know it.”

“I think it’s the reverse about Pelican Town,” Elliott said. “It’s a nice place to live, but you wouldn’t want to visit.”

Jodi chuckled. “That’s certainly true,” she said. She sighed and turned back to her laundry. “We used to live in Zuzu City, too,” she said. “Back when Sam was younger.”

“I never knew that,” Elliott said. “As close as you are with Marnie and Caroline, I assumed you’d grown up here with them.”

Jodi shook her head. “No, I…” she took in a breath through her nose. “We both worked then,” she said. “I was a teacher’s aide at Sam’s school. Kent worked for the sanitation department. We were both working very long hours. We made it work, but – well, we didn’t have much time for Sam. Or each other, really. So Kent decided he was going to join the military.” She looked up at her house. “We could never have afforded a house this size in Zuzu City or the suburbs. And Kent had visited Pelican Town in the past and remembered it being beautiful and idyllic. So we moved.” She pulled one of the sheets out and started hanging it on the line.

Elliott was quiet for a moment. “Do you miss the city?” he asked.

“Yes,” Jodi said, without a moment’s hesitation. She let out a long breath. “I miss…” she paused in her speech, though she continued hanging the sheets with cartoon Prairie Kings and villains on them. Elliott assumed they were Vincent’s. He hoped they weren’t Sam’s. “I miss a lot about what life used to be like there. Even though it was busy. I felt…” her fingers came to rest on the line. “I felt like I was somebody.”

“You still are somebody,” Elliott said, as gently as he could.

Jodi was quiet for a moment, then turned toward Elliott as though she were seeing him for the first time. “I shouldn’t keep you,” she said, reaching down into the basket for another clothespin. “But what I wanted to say was if you’d like, you’re welcome to join us for dinner sometime. Leah, too, if she’d like. You don’t have any allergies, do you?”

“I don’t, no, though Leah is a pescatarian,” Elliott said.

Jodi raised an eyebrow.

“She doesn’t eat red meat or poultry, only fish,” Elliott clarified.

“Oh. I didn’t know that was a thing,” Jodi said, furrowing her brows. “The old curator, he was a vegetarian, and I think Granny Evelyn is one, too.”

“You knew the curator, then?” Elliott asked.

“Yes, of course,” Jodi said. “He taught Sam when we first came to Pelican Town. I thought he would keep teaching, and he’d be Vincent’s teacher as well. But then he disappeared.” She began hanging the last of the line.

“I arrived here after all that,” Elliott said. “I don’t know much about him. I asked Penny once, but she seemed to be very reluctant to say anything.”

“Oh. Well, there’s a very good reason for that,” Jodi said, keeping her eyes on the sheets. “His name was Robert Batz. He was Penny’s father. Pam’s husband.”

Elliott’s eyes widened. “You’re joking,” he said.

“Not at all,” Jodi said. Her voice and eyes were far away. “He adored Penny. She was the apple of his eye. I could never understand…”

Her voice trailed off. Elliott knew what she was referring to. He had heard the stories, about how the old curator had disappeared in the middle of the night, taking the entire collection with him. How he had left a single note apologizing, saying that he had debts to pay, that he didn’t want his family to be targeted. But Elliott had never known who his family was. It made sense now – why Penny and Pam were the only family in town without a house of their own, why they had to live in the trailer. Why Penny was so downtrodden thinking about his disappearance and why Pam had such an edge to her, such an undercurrent of bitterness at the world.

“She and Sam used to be such close friends, too.” Jodi had continued at some point. Elliott kicked himself for not paying attention to what she had said.

“Did they?” he asked, hoping to cover for his lapse in noticing what she was saying.

“Oh, yes,” Jodi said, finishing hanging the last of the sheets and setting the basket down. There was a more genuine smile on her face now. “She used to be a part of that group, with Sam and Abigail and Sebastian. Sam had quite a crush on her when they were young. I could understand why. She was always such a sweet girl, so kind. Now it’s Vincent’s turn to have a crush on her. He told me that he wants to marry Miss Penny when he grows up.” She chuckled, and Elliott could see a bit more vitality in her eyes. 

“That’s very sweet,” Elliott said, smiling. “She does seem to adore her charges.”

“It’s true,” Jodi said. She hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer to the fence. “I don’t want to make it seem like Pelican Town is a bad place,” she said. “It’s been good to us, it’s been peaceful, a place for us to raise the boys. But it has a way of making sure you don’t leave. Even people who can afford to, they… just don’t leave.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Elliott said. “As long as you’re not hinting there’s a secret cult in town or something.”

Jodi’s laugh at that was louder, but still somehow crystalline: clear and fragile. “Oh, no,” she said. “That would be… certainly more interesting than most things that happen around here. It’s just difficult to get away from. Nobody ever wants to buy a house here, so it’s very hard to sell. Unless you’ve paid your house off and could afford to rent it out. And it’s…” she was quiet for a moment. “There’s always something keeping you grounded here. Not able to get away.”

Elliott nodded. “I think I understand,” he said.

Jodi’s smile was wan. “But you’re young. You still have a chance to travel and see the world,” she said.

Elliott wanted to assure Jodi that she would as well. But something about the way she spoke, the way she held herself, told him that he wasn’t sure she would take that opportunity even if it arose. She was comfortable in her discomfort. It had become normal enough to her where she didn’t even seem to notice the quiet, almost silent agony it caused in her.

So he cleared his throat. “Perhaps I could tell you some of my stories of traveling when I take you up on that dinner invitation?” he asked, hoping it was the right thing to say.

Jodi’s smile widened slightly. “That would be nice,” she said. “Just let me know when you’d like to come over. I’ll have to make sure to make enough for everyone.”

“I certainly will,” Elliott said. Something struck him and he checked his watch. 2:05. _Bollocks._ He was late. No doubt Sebastian would be wondering where he was. He held up the bags and apologetically said, “I do hate to run, but I promised Leah I would get some groceries at Pierre’s so we could make supper tonight.”

Jodi nodded. “Of course,” she said. “Have a good day, Elliott.” Without waiting for his reply, she turned and moved toward her front door.

Despite his rush, Elliott remained where he was for just a moment, watching Jodi go. He was starting to understand why he knew so little about her.

~~~

Pierre’s General Store was a Pelican Town staple. It was owned and operated by Pierre Cooper, as it had been by his father, Pierre Cooper, and his grandfather, Pierre Cooper. When Sebastian’s family had moved to Pelican Town, the second-eldest Pierre Cooper was still alive, though he had passed the day-to-day operations of the store to his son. For a number of years, Pierre’s was the only place in town to get groceries and the various sundry goods that Pelican Town residents needed to stock their homes.

Then, about four years ago, JojaMart opened a branch in Pelican Town. Sebastian had been surprised they even wanted to open a store here. JojaMarts had been everywhere in Grampleton, even when he was young, but never in small, out-of-the-way places like Pelican Town. The effect on Pierre’s – and on Pierre – had been almost instantaneous. When he was young, Pierre was never that worried about his business or money, assured in the comfort of having regulars who shopped at his store. There was never a need to worry. Everyone supported the local general store.

But Joja undercut his prices significantly. Everything except seeds, which had to be transported in. Every Tuesday night, the Joja Truck would arrive and start unloading pallets and boxes and packages, enough to stock the shelves. Sam rarely talked about his job at JojaMart, other than to say it sucked. But it was a job. Sam hadn’t ever considered himself cut out for college, and aside from his music and skateboarding, he never had much of an interest in any sort of job. Stocking shelves kept him busy enough, and his employee discount made Jodi happy. But Sam slowly started to feel the effects of JojaMart. Most of the other people in town wouldn’t have noticed, but Sebastian had seen how his best friend’s eyes got a little dimmer, how he slumped his shoulders more, how he always seemed tired. 

Sam put up a good front, but the soul-sucking nature of JojaMart was getting to him. He was much happier now that he was working at the library. He made about the same amount that he did at JojaMart, but Gunther was nowhere near the asshole Morris had been and let Sam pick his days he would work. Things had been a little tense between him and Abby when he started the job at JojaMart, but they also seemed to be getting along a lot better now.

Sebastian pushed through the doors at Pierre’s, a small list in his hand. He picked up a shopping basket and returned the wave Pierre gave him from the register with a single nod. Pierre had learned that trying to engage Sebastian in friendly customer chatter was the quickest way to get him to end his shopping trip early and head out the door with fewer purchases than he’d intended on making. There weren’t many other people in the store, just Gus picking up a few staples for the saloon and Haley grabbing some produce in the bins along the wall.

Sebastian unfolded the list. He had offered to go to Pierre’s and pick up some things that mom needed. _Pasta. Chicken stock. Tomatoes. Peaches. Goat cheese._ All easy enough. But he wasn’t here just to get groceries. He needed to kill some time until Elliott showed up. So Sebastian wandered the aisles slowly, only occasionally picking an item off the shelves and placing it in his basket.

Elliott would be here soon. He had to be. He told Sebastian he would be here. Sebastian reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. 1:58. It wasn’t two yet. Elliott said he would be here around two. _Breathe. Just breathe._ His heart was pounding in his chest with the anticipation of seeing Elliott. He didn’t even know what they would talk about here. Maybe he could convince Elliott to go somewhere with him in town afterward. They could sit and have an actual conversation. 

Sebastian found himself in the back corner of the store. Near the flower stand. He paused and his eyes ran over the groups of flowers. And the sign. _Create your own bouquet, 50 gold a bloom. Help available._ The flowers were always here, even though most people only bought a handful of individual flowers to take home and keep in a vase for a little bit. A bouquet was a variety, a selection that was clearly curated to show That Special Someone how you felt. It had been since Sebastian was young. “Help available” was always Caroline. She knew much more about flowers than either Pierre or Abigail.

The thought of putting a bouquet together was somehow both thrilling and terrifying. Thrilling in imagining the look on Elliott’s face, the excitement, the pleasure if Sebastian were to hand him over a bouquet, with the promise that came along with it. And terrifying in its finality. How public it would no doubt be. Every time someone put a bouquet together, it was all over town within a day or so, with everyone speculating as to who the lucky recipient was going to be. The last time, Becca had cut that idle chatter out by coming in, getting a bouquet, and walking right next door, nearly kicking the door open and thrusting it into Harvey’s hands.

Sebastian would never have that much confidence. Not to do it publicly, not to be so casual. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with Elliott. Far from it. He could hardly imagine his life without Elliott in it. It was the speculation, the talk, the _being known_ that made his stomach churn and feel hot. Being open about his relationship with another man in a town this small, being the subject of conversation, being scrutinized and talked about – he could already hear the speculation and gossip being bandied about at the saloon or at the festivals – it was too much. He wanted to be with Elliott, and he wanted that to not be a big deal. He didn’t understand why that was too much to ask.

The door to the store jingled and Sebastian looked up, hope fluttering in his chest. But then Pierre called out, in that too-friendly way he always did, “It’s farmer Becca!”

“It’s shopkeeper Pierre,” Becca replied, voice as flat as it always was when Pierre greeted her in that way.

Sebastian ducked away from the flowers and back down one of the aisles. What was he thinking, standing and staring at the bouquets? No doubt Pierre had noticed, and if Pierre had noticed, he would say something to Caroline, and the next time that Sebastian was in the store, she would be there, ready to spring and get all the information out of him that she could about who the lucky girl is, it’s so nice you’re thinking of settling down, tell me all about her, what does she like, what colors does she prefer, how long have you been thinking about going steady?

His stomach turned over. He couldn’t bear it. Caroline was the biggest gossip in town. If she knew something, then the telephone hour would begin, and everyone else would know before the sun set.

And then the door jingled again. Sebastian peered around the corner of the aisle he was in and his stomach unclenched and his chest felt lighter. Elliott closed the door behind himself and as their gaze met, Elliott’s eyes softened. Sebastian knew he had missed Elliott, but he hadn’t realized just how much until this very moment.

Seeing Elliott, being close enough to touch him – hell, to grab him and kiss him and hold him as close as Sebastian dared – was an exquisite sort of torture. It had only been a week since he had last been able to hug Elliott outside of the saloon, and Sebastian now felt the weight of every single one of those days. They crushed him, made him feel as though he had been without oxygen or water. He wanted to breathe Elliott in, to drink his fill. But he couldn’t. Not now. Not in public. Not here. Not like this.

But Elliott approached him. He slipped into the aisle and slid his arms around Sebastian and Sebastian leaned into the embrace, closing his eyes and pressing his cheek against Elliott’s chest.

“Hello, darling,” Elliott said quietly, quickly kissing the top of his head. 

“Hi,” Sebastian managed to get out. There was so much more he wanted to say, the words that pressed at his lips and churned inside of him, but when he opened his mouth, they stuck in his throat. The lump there was keeping them from coming out.

Elliott carefully withdrew and looked down at him. “Walk me home after?” he asked, still keeping his voice down.

Sebastian nodded, eagerly. Elliott smiled and stroked the side of Sebastian’s cheek before he actually pulled away and turned as though he were simply looking at items on the shelves. Sebastian knew Elliott was trying to be discreet. It was what he had asked of him. What he had wanted.

So why did it hurt so bad? Standing here, just inches from Elliott, Sebastian wanted nothing more than to yell the truth, to make everyone in Pelican Town watch as he grabbed Elliott and kissed him and held him and dared them to say anything. If he were brave, he would have done that. If he weren’t afraid. If he weren’t a fucking coward.

Sebastian passed by Elliott, gently running his hand along the small of Elliott’s back. The shiver of desire that passed through Elliott brightened his spirits marginally. Elliott still wanted him. That hadn’t changed. He felt a shudder run through his stomach and a stirring in his groin. He desperately wanted to be alone with Elliott, to feel his skin and be inside of him. Soon, hopefully. Some way.

Sebastian grabbed a box of cheese crackers and a bottle of sparkling water. Something he’d be able to nosh on while he worked. If he ever worked again. He pulled out his list and checked it carefully. He had everything mom asked for. A couple of things for himself so his trip to the store didn’t look suspicious. Yeah, everything.

Sebastian moved to the checkout stand, where Becca was finishing up selling some of her produce. After Pierre handed her the cash and she tucked it away, she turned around and looked at Sebastian. He paused, looking up at her, wondering what the serious look in her eye was about.

And then Becca leaned in and whispered, _“Raisins.”_

Sebastian found himself laughing near-idiotically in relief. It was such a stupid thing, but it grounded him, made him realize that the world hadn’t stopped spinning. Just because things had gone awry, it didn’t mean it was the end of everything. Becca quirked her head. Laughing this much and this loud wasn’t something that Sebastian did, ever.

“You okay there, sparky?” she asked.

Sebastian wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. He couldn’t stop laughing. The emotional release of the last week was just too much. He could feel the eyes on him, the people peeking around corners and trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Everything in him wanted to stop the histrionic laughter bubbling up from him, but he couldn’t. His breath came in deep, sucking gasps, his chest nearly hurting from the force of the laughs. The tears that began leaking from his eyes weren’t entirely from humor. Becca seemed to realize what was going on and she put an arm around Sebastian’s shoulders, pulling him up to the counter.

“Okay,” she said to him quietly. “We’re gonna get you paid for and get you out of here, all right?”

Sebastian managed to nod, the noise of his emotional outburst shifting from laughter to noises of distress. Becca gave Pierre a _don’t you dare say a word_ look and Pierre began carefully ringing up Sebastian’s purchases. Sebastian managed to fish in his pocket for his bank card and handed it over, the deep gasps and exhalations of air no longer sounding like laughter in the slightest. He was only barely aware of Becca handing over one of the bags to him and taking the other in her arms as she escorted him from the store.

Becca pulled Sebastian away from the square, moving him up to the fountain outside of the community center. By the time they sat down, Sebastian was nearly consumed in sobs.

Becca sat her bag down and helped Sebastian get his down from his lap, then pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back and stroking his hair. Sebastian found himself clutching at her shirt, completely unable to stop the tears that were coming.

Everything was too much. Wanting to be with Elliott, the fear of what people would say, the thought of how word would get around, the stares and whispers – Yoba, everybody was staring at him, they were all going to be talking about how that strange boy had a breakdown in the middle of the general store, what a strange person, how could anybody not be a little afraid of him? – 

And then another pair of arms were around him. Sebastian looked up and saw auburn hair and brown eyes. Elliott was clutching him. Sandwiched between Elliott and Becca, Sebastian found his breathing starting to come a little easier, his sobs starting to ease.

Elliott was stroking his face, Becca his back. Sebastian could hardly move. He supposed, the part of him that was still capable of rational thought supposed, that was the point. He gradually became aware of how much he was shaking, the ragged noises of breath coming in and out of his mouth, how hard his heart was pounding in his chest, the tenseness of his muscles.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He had just had a fucking panic attack in front of half the town. In the middle of _Pierre’s._ He’d managed to keep the attacks at bay for so long. When he would feel one coming on, he would put himself in a situation where he could keep someone from hearing. Running the shower or blasting music or doing something that would keep his crying and gasping from being heard.

But this one had come on so fast. He should have recognized the signs. He’d been hyper-anxious all last week. He’d been ramping himself up, thinking about seeing Elliott. And then his worry about the flowers and what people would think and how he had felt the eyes on him. All it had taken was that stupid joke from Becca and his emotions had tumbled completely out of control. If she hadn’t been there to get him out of the store and if Elliott hadn’t followed right after, he would have probably ended up on his back, gasping for air, sobbing. They would have hauled him next door to Harvey’s clinic. And then he really _would_ have to get some medication for his anxiety.

Sebastian felt his breathing regulate. It was then that he was able to hear the quiet hum of Elliott’s voice. The words weren’t quite registering, but Elliott was saying quiet, reassuring things to him. He could feel Elliott’s arms around him. He could sense the voice. He could sink back into Elliott, where he was safe. Where nobody could hurt him.

Sebastian raised his head, wiping at his blurry eyes. Becca, directly in front of him, looked about as serious and worried as he’d ever seen her. He glanced back to Elliott, who bore a similar expression, even as he continued speaking quietly.

The words finally began to register.

“…safe. Nobody’s going to hurt you. Just breathe. Take as many breaths as you need. We’re here. We’re not going to let anything happen to you. You’re fine. You’ll be fine, darling.”

Sebastian choked out one last sob before he finally managed to get words out. “…sorry. I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Becca said, putting her hands on the sides of Sebastian’s face and looking him dead in the eyes. “We would not be here if we didn’t care about you.”

“She’s right,” Elliott said, wrapping his arms around Sebastian from behind. Sebastian closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. “We’re here for you. Both of us.”

Sebastian’s eyes scrunched together tighter. He could hardly even manage to get words out. All he could manage to pull from his own depths was, “Thanks.” _Thanks._ As though that was enough to make up for what he had just put them through, humiliating them as well as himself.

“Come on,” Elliott said quietly, standing from the fountain. “I’ll get you home.”

“I was –” Sebastian said, not resisting as Elliott helped him up. _I was supposed to walk you home. I can’t fucking do anything right._

“You got it?” Becca asked Elliott, standing after she was satisfied Sebastian wasn’t going to tumble suddenly.

“Yes, of course. Thank you so much, Becca,” Elliott said, giving her a grateful smile.

Becca managed a small smile in return and pulled her backpack on. She took a few steps backward, giving them both a careful look as she did, and then she turned, making her way back down toward the village.

As soon as Sebastian dared, he wrapped his arms around Elliott, letting out a shuddering breath. Elliott closed his eyes and held Sebastian close.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Sebastian managed to get out. “I’m – I can’t stop thinking about you. But I didn’t know what…”

“Shhh,” Elliott said softly, rubbing Sebastian’s back. He gently kissed Sebastian’s temple. The contact, as brief as it was, sent a shockwave of desire through Sebastian’s entire body. “Shhh, darling. This… I should have called or texted or…” he let out a sigh. “I’ve been very selfish.”

Sebastian managed to shake his head against Elliott’s chest. “…’m selfish,” he said. “You’re… you always –”

Elliott kissed Sebastian’s forehead. “How about I get you back home and help you lie down?” he asked quietly. “You’ll feel better when you’re back in your own bed.”

Sebastian wanted to protest, wanted to say that they were supposed to go walk to the forest, that he was supposed to be the one supporting Elliott. But Elliott helped him with his bags – fuck, Elliott had bags of his own. He was going to be carrying those all the way up the mountain and back. _I’m fucking useless._

And he couldn’t resist as Elliott put an arm around him and started gently guiding him toward the mountain path. It just felt so good to have Elliott next to him, touching him, just being there. Elliott seemed to realize that he needed quiet, that he didn’t want to talk about what had just happened. And so their walk was nearly silent, aside from the sound of their shoes on the grass or dirt path, the quiet hum of cicadas in the background, the gentle rubbing of Elliott’s thumb on Sebastian’s shoulder, making the fabric rustle just slightly.

When they neared Sebastian’s home, he motioned for Elliott to move to the side entrance. He couldn’t stand to walk past mom right now. And there would be some quiet, some seclusion that they could have.

Sebastian lowered his bags to the ground and pulled Elliott into the side of the house, leaning up to kiss him. He had to feel Elliott’s lips against his. He might legitimately die if he didn’t. As soon as their lips touched, Sebastian felt a huge rush of relief crash through him. It was as though a fever he didn’t know he had suddenly broke, and he felt instantly better.

Elliott murmured quietly as Sebastian kissed him, and he wrapped his arms around Sebastian, stroking his hair. Eventually, he pulled away, whispering, “Aren’t you worried?”

“Everyone’s inside,” Sebastian whispered back. “It’s too hot out.” He pulled Elliott back and kissed him again, deeper this time. He had to taste and feel Elliott again. The more he luxuriated in Elliott, the better he felt. It only took a couple of minutes before he was breathing easier than he had in a week.

Sebastian finally broke from Elliott and wrapped his arms around the taller man. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry I’m such a fucking mess.”

“You’re not a mess,” Elliott reassured him, tucking Sebastian in close to him. “You’re a deeply sensitive, kind, smart, funny, handsome, lovely human being. And I adore you.”

Sebastian’s chest felt tight for an entirely different reason than it had earlier. “I was supposed to walk you home,” he said. “Now you’ve gotta go back all the way down the mountain and to the forest with your bags.”

“I could use the fresh air,” Elliott said. “I’ve been cooped up in the cottage all day. It’s cool, but I think Leah and I can both use a bit of a break from each other. And she keeps encouraging me to go for walks.”

Sebastian shuddered. “I just…” he couldn’t manage to finish the sentence.

_I just don’t want you to realize how awful I am. As soon as you do, you’re going to want to leave me._

“Shhh,” Elliott said again, kissing his forehead. “It’s all right, darling,” he said, stroking the back of Sebastian’s head. “You’re fine now. Everything’s all right.”

“Until people start talking about how I freaked out in the middle of Pierre’s,” Sebastian grumbled.

“People always talk,” Elliott said. “And I don’t think anyone was seriously considering gossiping. They were all very concerned.”

Sebastian leaned in and tucked his head in the crook of Elliott’s neck. “Why are you so good to me?” he asked.

“The same reason I always am,” Elliott said, lowering his voice. “Because you are the best thing in my life. Because I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

Sebastian leaned up and gave Elliott another kiss. He pulled back and swallowed. “Do you, um… do you want to come in and cool off for a bit before you go?” he asked.

Elliott smiled ruefully. “That does sound lovely, but I really should get this back to Leah’s before it all starts to wilt,” he said, holding up his bags. “But,” he said, clearly seeing the disappointment in Sebastian’s eyes, “but I will text you regularly. And I’ll call you, if you want. Whenever you want. I just need to step out and walk a little way from the cottage so I get some privacy. Any time.”

“I thought I was going to be the one cheering you up,” Sebastian managed to grumble, but he wasn’t able to keep the seriousness in his voice. “I just made things worse for you.”

“Hardly,” Elliott said. “I got to see you, and hold you, and walk with you, and kiss you. That already made today better than many of the recent days I’ve had.”

Sebastian shook his head slightly, but he could feel the smile on his face. “I don’t know how you manage to be upbeat all the time,” he said.

“Well,” Elliott said, eyes soft and twinkling slightly with mirth. “I’ve already lost my home. I don’t anticipate things falling apart much more any time soon.” 

~~~

Three days later, things fell apart.

It was a hot, muggy Sunday. A storm had been threatening to roll in most of the day, but never seemed to quite arrive, leaving the air heavy and difficult to breathe. It was the sort of day Elliott hated for more than one reason. If the storm would just break, if it would just start raining, some of the humidity would be alleviated. He would stop feeling like he was just about to start breaking out into sweat on his brow and his chest and the back of his neck.

Leah, too, didn’t deal well with this sort of weather. She was prone to occasional migraines, which the weather could aggravate. Worse yet was how the weather could affect her mood. Her head had been killing her all day and no matter how much iced tea she drank or aspirin she took, she was reduced to lying on her bed with the shades drawn or, at best, sitting at the table, cradling her head and grumbling miserably.

Elliott knew that on days like this, it was likely Leah would end up snapping at him. He didn’t blame her for it, he knew it was her headaches that made her so out of sorts. She had described the pain once to him, and it had nearly made his eyes water to think about. He felt terrible that she had to endure it. But it didn’t make it any easier to be around her. Normally, when Leah was having a day like this, he would send her his sympathies and ask if she needed anything. If she did, he would discreetly drop it at her door and then leave, texting her that it was there.

He didn’t have to be around her the way he was now. He could have gone out, but the heat and the mugginess and the constant threat that rain might be coming in any minute now kept him inside. So he sat, quietly reading, or trying to. He mostly used the book as a shield, stealing looks over the top of it at Leah every few sentences or so, trying to gauge her mood.

At dinnertime, he braved asking, “Leah, would you like me to make anything for you?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Leah said, her voice brittle. He could see how even the small effort of speaking, moving slightly, caused her to wince and squint her eyes together tighter. Wordlessly, Elliott got up and moved into the kitchen. He pulled a clean dishcloth from the drawer and ran it under cool water, creating a compress. When the cloth was soaked through, he wrung it out and brought it over to the bed, sitting down and helping her to place it over her eyes. Leah mumbled out something that might have been a thank-you.

He didn’t bother turning a light on when it got dark. The light fading was one of the few things that alleviated the pain of Leah’s migraines. So he sat, quiet and waiting for any sign of movement from Leah.

It was almost nine by the time Leah was able to get up into a sitting position. “I’m going to shower. I feel gross,” she said, pushing herself up.

“Do you need –?” Elliott began.

“I’m fine,” Leah said firmly. She felt her way through the dark, moving into the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and Elliott saw the dim glow of the nightlight that she kept in the bathroom. The bathroom was the only part of the cottage that didn’t have a window, so she kept the nightlight there for days like this, so she would be able to navigate her way through without turning on the overhead light.

Elliott let out a breath that seemed to come from within him, alleviating some pressure he had in his stomach. He was hungry. He’d only eaten what he could make quietly, peeling an orange or taking some slices of cheese and vegetables to make a sandwich. He didn’t want to disturb Leah, but he also didn’t want to leave her in case she needed him for something. Leah was proud, too proud most of the time to ask for help, but her migraines were one of the few instances when she was so out of sorts that she had to.

Elliott began carefully arranging the blankets and pillows for himself on the floor. It would be an early night, he knew that. He didn’t mind. It had been an uncomfortable, difficult day. Even without the pain Leah was under from her migraine, they had been bristling around each other more. It had been the same way when he had stayed at her cottage shortly after he arrived in Pelican Town. They were both creatures of habit, used to their own space, to spreading out, to being able to work on their art whenever they wanted. 

Neither of them had had much of an outlet. Elliott’s computer was still in the box. He used Leah’s to check his email twice a day to make sure Cynthia hadn’t asked for any revisions. So far, she hadn’t. Leah found it hard to get work done with Elliott’s new sleeping space on the floor. At best, she managed to get a little painting done, but he could tell she was itching to get back to woodwork – it was her true passion, the medium in which she worked best.

Besides that, Elliott and Leah’s friendship had always been a strong one precisely because they knew and loved and respected each other enough to give each other space. Neither gave the other unnecessary or unwelcome advice on love matters or art – though each was quick to give advice when it was asked for. They were comfortable going days, or even weeks without spending a huge amount of time together, and then could pick up their conversation as though no time had passed whatsoever.

He was lucky to have a friend like Leah, Elliott knew. And he wanted to keep it that way.

From the bathroom, Elliott heard muffled cursing as Leah stepped into the shower. He bit his lip. He hoped that they would be able to get to sleep without an argument. He hated arguing with anyone, especially someone who he cared about, but Leah could get very prickly and find fault with anything when she was like this. He felt terrible arguing back, but every so often, something she said would rub him the wrong way and then there would be a fight.

The shower shut off and Elliott could hear Leah moving around, toweling herself off. Then the door opened and Leah stepped into the doorframe, clad in her bathrobe. She had been without makeup all day and her hair was out of its usual braid, hanging damp down her back.

“Elliott,” she said in a steely tone that made his stomach clench. “Can you come here a minute?”

“Of course,” he said as neutrally as possible, standing and moving to the door. “What is it, starling?”

“Would you look at this, please?” she asked, pointing to the bath. Elliott looked and swallowed. The water was draining very slowly. It clearly had been standing for however long her shower had taken.

“Did I not ask you to please check the drain after you showered, with how long and thick your hair is?” she asked, her voice remaining cold and clear.

“You did,” Elliott said. “I’m sorry, Leah, I’ll clear it out.”

“All I would like,” Leah said, moving to the vanity and pulling out her toothbrush and toothpaste, “is the ability to do things in my own damn house, and not have to worry about tripping over you or what you’ve brought in here.”

“I’m not –” Elliott began, then bit his words back. Now wasn’t the time to try and reason with Leah. He knew she was in a lot of pain and what she was angry about didn’t really have anything to do with him.

“No, you are,” Leah said, putting her toothpaste down on the counter. “I am happy to have you and to help you out. You’re my best friend, but would you _please_ stop spreading out all over everything? Everywhere I look, you’re there!” she snapped, turning to him. Elliott could see in her eyes how she was barely managing to push through the migraine. No doubt this would be her last burst of energy before she collapsed. He’d seen it before, how the pain and stress and misery of the day pushed her to this breaking point.

But Elliott, too, was at his breaking point. He had felt the stress weighing on him all day – all week, really – from when he had been worrying constantly about how things were going with the book, whether it would sell, if he would ever be able to make a home for himself and Sebastian here in Pelican Town, whether Sebastian would want to stay with him when he realized what a failure Elliott had been, and the knot in Elliott’s stomach pulled so tight that it snapped. A hot flush ran through him, followed almost immediately by cold dread.

Wordlessly, he stepped out of the bathroom. He moved back into the main room of the cottage and picked up his coat. He could hear the quiet footsteps behind him. Leah was at the door of the bathroom, watching him.

“Elliott?” her voice was different now. She knew she’d gone too far, that she’d lashed out at him much more than he deserved. “Elliott, I’m – I’m sorry, it’s just –”

Elliott turned, blinking the heat back in his eyes. “I think it’s best if we both get some space right now, starling,” he said, voice quiet.

“No, wait,” Leah said. The exhaustion was settling in now. He could see it. She always got very tired after the last flare of temper. She would sleep like the dead and would be like herself again when she woke up. “Elliott, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been…” she put a hand to her head. He could tell she was already regretting what she had said to him. “I’m sorry. Please don’t go. It’s – you’re going to get caught in the rain,” she said.

“I don’t think I want to be around you right now, Leah,” Elliott said, hearing the warble in his voice and hating it. “I’ll be…” he didn’t want to make any promises. “I’ll be back later,” he finally settled on, and moved to the door.

Leah didn’t follow him. He knew she wouldn’t have the strength to. The wind had started picking up. It would storm tonight. Elliott didn’t know when, but it would storm. He put his hands into the pockets of his coat and steeled himself, walking from Leah’s home into town and trying to ignore the stinging in his eyes and the hot, sour feeling coursing through his stomach and arms.

He had nowhere to go. He could go back to the cabin, he could go inside and shut the door and pretend things were all right, but this storm was the exact sort of thing Robin had warned Lewis against, the kind of storm that could have pushed just enough against the warped, rotten boards to send the whole thing tumbling down around him.

Heat began to streak down Elliott’s face as he leaned forward, trying to avoid the worst of the wind rushing toward him and against him and around him. He knew what he wanted. No. What he _needed._ He reached in his pocket for his phone and turned his back to the wind. He dialed a number and pulled his coat up, trying to keep the noise of the wind at bay.

“Hey! What’s up?” Sebastian’s voice came through, much happier to hear from Elliott than Elliott was to make the call.

Elliott’s mouth moved a couple of times, but it was so hard to get words out.

“Elliott?” Sebastian said. “Elliott, if you’re saying anything, I can’t hear it.”

“I’m here,” Elliott finally said. He could hear the rawness and tears in his own voice.

“What’s wrong?” Sebastian’s tone changed to seriousness immediately. “Elliott, what’s going on?”

“Can I see you?” Elliott asked. “Is there…” he swallowed. “Is there anywhere in town, anywhere at all, we can go to… be alone?” He hoped that Sebastian understood his meaning.

“Yeah, um…” Elliott could hear the creaking of Sebastian’s chair underneath him as he adjusted. “We could, uh –” Sebastian was quiet. “Hang on, give me a minute,” he said.

“Take your time,” Elliott said. He closed his eyes. _Please, darling. Please. I need to feel you. I need to have you inside me. Please. Please take care of me._

“Okay,” Sebastian said. Elliott could hear him getting up and moving through his room. “Um, you can meet me at the community center. There shouldn’t be anyone there this late on a Sunday.”

“I’ll be there shortly,” Elliott said. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Sebastian said. “Elliott?” 

“Yes?” Elliott asked.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Sebastian said. 

Elliott swallowed. “I hope so,” he said. “Hurry, it’s probably going to rain.” He closed his phone and set it in his pocket, turning to walk at a faster pace than he had gone before. He passed through Willow Lane, past the Fischer home and Emily and Haley’s, before he turned to make his way up through the square.

Even when rain wasn’t threatening, Sundays were quiet days in Pelican Town. Families stayed together, did things, or rested, preparing for the week ahead. It was the day for worship, when people gathered at the shrine of Yoba in the general store. Pangolais wasn’t a nation as devoted to worship as Ferngill was, and Elliott found the idea of gatherings for worship quaint, if somewhat strange. He was grateful for it now, grateful that this was a day that would be quiet, that he could pass through quickly without feeling the need to stop and be sociable. He kept his head lowered, his heart pounding in his chest as he passed through the square and up the incline outside the general store as quickly as he dared.

The community center was quiet and dark, but the door wasn’t locked. Elliott pushed himself inside and looked around. “Hello?” he asked. He had to make sure they had the place to themselves. Nobody replied. Elliott let out a sound of relief and sat down on one of the couches near the door. He had been back to the community center a small handful of times since the day he and Sebastian had returned from Zuzu City, the day the center had opened once again. It was peaceful. It was a good place. He could get to know his neighbors a bit better there. It was a place for everybody.

The thought made him feel a sudden sick burst of guilt about what he was about to do. This was a place for everyone. A place where the children played, where people gathered. What he was about to do was selfish, claiming something for himself.

But right now, he realized with exhaustion, he didn’t care. He rested his elbows on his knees and placed his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking as the tears flowed more freely now.

He was tired. No, he wasn’t tired, he was bloody _exhausted._ He had been putting on a front to try and pretend as though he were fine for so long, and it was catching up with him. Even before he had been evicted, he had been tired. He had been pushing so hard, trying everything to get the book finished and then revised, and taking care of Sebastian when he needed, and going to be sociable and – and – and – and –

Elliott felt as though he might collapse. If he weren’t sitting, he probably would have. There was only so much he could bear to have weighing on him at once. A low rumble of thunder underscored his mood. _Please hurry, Sebastian. Please. I need you. I need –_

The door opened and Elliott looked up. Sebastian closed the door to the community center behind him and turned the lock. When he saw Elliott, he froze. A series of emotions passed over his face, and before Elliott could say anything, Sebastian moved to sit next to him and put his arms around Elliott, holding him tightly.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” he murmured into Elliott’s ear.

The feeling of Sebastian’s arms around him and the comforting words made the dam burst and Elliott let himself sob. He clutched onto Sebastian desperately, seeking comfort, any kind of comfort Sebastian could provide him.

“What’s going on? What happened?” Sebastian asked.

“Everything,” Elliott got out. “Everything fucking happened.” It was only the third time Sebastian had heard Elliott drop an F-bomb. The first time, Elliott was drunk. The second, he was telling Sebastian what Shane had said to him. This time he was completely sober, and it was his own words, and he was clearly broken about something.

“Hey,” he found himself saying, quietly, reassuringly. “Shhh. Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” he said, stroking Elliott’s hair as he did. Around Elliott’s sobs and sudden sucks of air, Sebastian could hear the rain starting to patter against the community center windows. _We’re going to be here for a while._

“It won’t,” Elliott said, his voice about as raw and hopeless as Sebastian had ever heard. “I’m – everything – it – I can’t take it. I can’t take any more of this. It’s not fair. It isn’t fair.”

“I know,” Sebastian said, hearing a raw note in his own voice. “I know it isn’t. It’s not fucking fair. You don’t deserve any of this.” He pulled his arms tighter around Elliott, nuzzling his head against Elliott’s. “What can I do? Tell me what I can do, please. I want to help you, but I don’t know what to –”

Elliott moved up and kissed Sebastian with such force that it almost knocked him backward. He moaned slightly and began kissing Elliott back. Elliott’s hands grasped at him, his mouth hungrily sought Sebastian’s, and his shoulders still shook. As much as Sebastian craved Elliott’s touch and kiss, the sensation wasn’t entirely pleasant. Elliott was desperate, desperate to feel something that wasn’t the pain inside of him, and Sebastian wanted to help him. The discomfort he felt at Elliott’s desperation shamed him. Elliott needed this. He needed Sebastian now, like Sebastian had needed Elliott in the past.

But he had to pull back a little bit. He broke the kiss and leaned in, whispering as gently as he could, “Easy, easy.” Elliott opened his eyes and Sebastian put a hand on Elliott’s cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to eat me up,” he said, trying to manage a smile.

“I’m sorry,” Elliott said, and Sebastian could see a fresh wave of pain pass through his eyes. He cursed himself and leaned in, kissing Elliott softer, deeper, longer. The slowness and steadiness of the kisses seemed to calm Elliott’s racing mind, and Sebastian felt him start to move underneath him as he had before.

Before Sebastian realized it, Elliott was pulling at his shirt, trying to get it off. He leaned back, helping Elliott to get his shirt off. Elliott pulled off his jacket and started unbuttoning his own shirt. Sebastian was startled. Elliott always saved his shirt for last, he was always so self-conscious. But now Elliott was just trying to get them unclothed as quickly as possible.

“Do you,” Sebastian began, then swallowed. “Do you want to do it here, on the couch, or somewhere else?”

Elliott paused and looked about. “I…” he couldn’t quite seem to process what Sebastian had asked him. He swallowed. “No. The floor.”

If Sebastian had been startled before, that outright shocked him. “You’re sure?” he asked. “That’s going to – it’s not going to be comfortable for you.”

“I can lie on this,” Elliott said, picking up his jacket. “The inside’s lined. It’ll keep me from rubbing against the carpet.”

“If you’re sure,” Sebastian said.

“I’m sure,” Elliott said. He met Sebastian’s eyes and Sebastian could see a look in Elliott’s gaze that wasn’t entirely familiar. “Actually,” he said, “can we just… could we skip the foreplay or anything else? I need…”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said. “Yeah, that’s fine.” He began unbuckling his pants and kicked off his boots.

Both men divested themselves of their clothes as quickly as possible and Elliott lay the jacket on the floor, resting himself into the lining. He uncapped the bottle of lubricant and began to stroke it up and down Sebastian’s length. It was faster, rougher than Elliott usually was. It didn’t feel as good as usual. Sebastian placed a hand on Elliott’s wrist and met Elliott’s eyes.

“Relax,” he said quietly. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll make you feel good.”

Elliott’s eyes didn’t show any signs of relaxing, but he did slow his stroking, focusing more on getting Sebastian completely lubricated. Then he moved to himself, inserting a pair of fingers and moving back and forth. Sebastian wanted to protest. It looked like Elliott was being too rough on himself, it lacked the usual care and gentleness he treated himself with when he got ready.

After only fifteen seconds or so, much faster than Sebastian had been expecting, Elliott moved onto his back and lifted his legs. “I’m ready,” he said.

“Are you sure?” Sebastian hesitated. “I don’t want to –”

“Please,” Elliott said. “Please, I need it. Please, Sebastian. Don’t make me wait.”

Sebastian hesitantly moved forward toward Elliott and guided himself carefully. He pushed forward and could feel how it was a little more difficult than usual. He paused and looked into Elliott’s eyes.

“You’re not ready,” he said. “We can take a minute and get you ready. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not going to hurt me, just push in,” Elliott said, reaching down to put his hands on Sebastian’s hips. Before Sebastian realized what was happening, Elliott was pulling him forward and he felt the give and then he was inside of Elliott.

Elliott might have been protesting that this was what he wanted, but the grimace on his face and the sucking hiss of breath between his teeth betrayed how it had hurt.

Sebastian felt a hollow pit in his stomach. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. It wasn’t supposed to hurt Elliott. And he felt guilt about how good it felt for him. Without as much lubricant as usual, Elliott felt so much tighter around him, gripping him snugly. He felt he might lose himself right away if he were to move.

“Elliott,” he said. Elliott turned his face. Sebastian placed a hand on Elliott’s face and turned it so that Elliott was facing him. “Elliott, I am _not_ going to hurt you,” he said. “I care…” his voice cracked and he forced himself to stop. “I care too much about you to hurt you. Please, don’t ask me to do this. I want us to both enjoy this. I’m not going to hurt you. I can’t. Please. Please.”

Elliott felt his eyes fill again and he closed them, the familiar warmth and wet running down his face. Sebastian wrapped his arms around Elliott’s chest and brought his lips to Elliott, kissing him with such tenderness and care that Elliott thought his heart would break. When his tears subsided at long last, Elliott felt Sebastian move his lips and then the murmur came in his ear.

“Let’s try this again,” Sebastian told him quietly. “I want you to actually get yourself ready. I want you to be ready. And then I will make you feel as good as I can. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I just don’t want to hurt you. Please.”

Elliott nodded and opened his eyes. Sebastian pulled back and looked at him with an expression somewhere between pity and lust and wonder.

“I’m sorry,” Elliott said, voice just a step above a whisper.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Sebastian said, withdrawing. Elliott regretted how much better he felt when Sebastian was out of him. Sebastian had been right. He wasn’t ready. He was trying to rush it, as though he would feel better somehow through the pain of not being ready. And then Sebastian reached down and picked up the lubricant. Elliott watched as Sebastian squeezed some into his hand and began slicking up a pair of fingers.

Their gaze met and Elliott saw Sebastian lick his lips nervously. “Can I?” he asked throatily.

Elliott nodded eagerly and leaned back into the lining of the coat. He felt Sebastian’s fingers at his opening and then they slowly pushed in. He let out a slight moan at the sensation of Sebastian’s fingers, and how gentle and tender Sebastian was being. He closed his eyes and let himself sink into the sensation of Sebastian’s fingers inside of him, seeking him out, making him feel ready. The heat he was accustomed to feeling began blossoming inside of him and his moans increased.

“Is this okay?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes,” Elliott breathed. He felt the moans creep from the back of his throat as though they were separate from him. Sebastian was moving so cautiously, but was reaching into him at a length and stoking the heat inside of him in a way that made his worries and fears and angst fade. Elliott felt sweat start to bead on his forehead and his moans deepened as Sebastian cautiously added a third finger inside of him.

Sebastian was terrified as he stroked his fingers inside of Elliott. He had seen Elliott do this enough before that he was pretty sure he was doing the right thing, but he feared the worst – that he might do too much, too fast, and hurt Elliott. Elliott’s moans of pleasure made him feel a little better, but he still kept himself from going at more than a very gentle pace. This seemed to be what Elliott really needed, to be pampered and cherished, not to be ravaged the way he had thought.

And Elliott’s moans were making him _really fucking hot._ Seeing Elliott prepare himself was one of the hottest parts of having sex, something that he almost looked forward to as much as actually being inside of Elliott. And now he was doing it. The combination of fear and desire made Sebastian feel lightheaded. Elliott was consuming his entire being.

And then Elliott’s eyes fluttered open and he looked into Sebastian’s worried, concerned gaze. Poor, sweet Sebastian. He was so good to Elliott. _I don’t deserve you, my darling. You should be with someone your own age. Someone who would be better to you, who would give you more security than I can._

Normally, the thought would have latched on. It would have been everything that Elliott held onto. It would have eaten him alive. But now, for tonight, he had given himself permission to be selfish.

“I’m ready,” he said between moans. At some point, Elliott wasn’t sure when, the rain had intensified. He could hear the hard tattoo against the windows and walls of the community center more clearly now than when he had been moaning so intently. “Please. Please, it feels so good. I need you.”

“Okay,” Sebastian said, his own voice quiet. He withdrew his fingers, drawing one last moan – this time of disappointment – from Elliott, and quickly applied some more lube to himself. He moved into position and pressed forward again, much easier this time, and was rewarded with an instant, deep, desperate, lusty moan from Elliott beneath him.

Sebastian drew in a shuddering breath as he sank into Elliott, the warmth surrounding him once more, but feeling so much better this time. Despite Elliott not being so tight or gripping him so hard, the enjoyment on Elliott’s face and in his voice gave Sebastian a sensation of intense relief. He wanted to make Elliott feel good. Elliott made him feel so good, all the time, and he wanted to be able to give some small amount of that back.

Elliott’s eyes closed and his head tilted back, the moan escaping him as Sebastian entered him, pressing all the way in. He needed it. He needed it now. He opened his eyes, gaze foggy with lust, and looked up at Sebastian. “Now,” he moaned.

“Are you sure?” Sebastian asked. “We can let you –”

“Sebastian,” Elliott said, his voice low, brooking no argument, almost growling. “I need you to _just fuck me_ already.”

Sebastian pulled back and pressed in, the moan escaping from Elliott serving as music to his ears. He did it again and again and again, each time drawing a deeper, more desperate moan from Elliott. He focused on Elliott below him and used every ounce of willpower and strength and stamina he had to keep himself back. He drove into Elliott over and over, relishing the cries and desperate pleas for more coming from Elliott’s mouth, the feeling of Elliott’s hands gripping his back, the way Elliott tossed his head from side to side. It was enough to keep him going while he desperately clenched every internal muscle, trying to prevent himself from going over the edge.

Elliott felt himself drifting, as though he were far from Pelican Town and the community center and the fears that were keeping him grounded. The entire universe ceased to exist for him except for Sebastian. Sebastian was here, and he kept pushing into Elliott, pressing himself in as deep as he could in a way that made Elliott nearly come undone. He was already feeling the beautiful heat from Sebastian stroking inside of him with his fingers, and now Sebastian joining with him was making him feel as though his body might dissolve under the glorious feeling.

And then, Elliott felt a hand grip around his length and began stroking. A deep groan escaped him and his fingers clutched onto Sebastian’s back as his head rolled back completely. “Darling – I – I won’t – Sebastian – I – you’ll – please – I –”

The words made no sense. Elliott could tell they didn’t, but he hoped Sebastian understood. Sebastian didn’t stop – either pushing into and out of him or stroking him up and down. Elliott nearly sobbed from the pleasure that was wracking through him. He could have lost himself forever into this feeling, of being taken care of, cared for, loved, ravaged, made into something so much less and yet so much more than himself.

As Sebastian brought him closer and closer to his release with each thrust and stroke and pull and press, Elliott found himself on the verge of dissociating completely. He felt himself pushing past his despair and his need for security and his fear and his anger and his desperation. Before him, behind the lids of his closed eyes, a white clearing spread out before Elliott: a place of comfort and gentleness, a place where he could be safe, where nobody would harm him, where he could lie in the arms of an angel with dark hair and hazel eyes, who would keep the world away.

And then Elliott was shocked back to reality as one of the most intense orgasms he had ever experienced in his life rocked through him, making him scream his throat raw and his entire body clench in tenseness as Sebastian’s stroking and thrusting made his prostate spasm and his release blasted from him, shooting up and between himself and Sebastian and Elliott collapsed back, gasping for air and vision swimming.

Sebastian’s hand moved up to his face, gently stroking his cheek, and Elliott weakly brough his hand up, taking Sebastian’s wrist and guiding his hand to Elliott’s mouth. He pressed a few soft, slow kisses against Sebastian’s fingers and his vision cleared just enough to see the look of concern on Sebastian’s face.

“Thank you,” Elliott managed to get out through his breathing. “Yoba, I –” he couldn’t get enough breath in to tell Sebastian what he wanted to say. How Sebastian had saved him, had salvaged his soul and brought him back from the brink of complete and abject despair. And then he became aware of how Sebastian was still hard inside of him. He managed to focus his attention and looked at Sebastian. “Did you…?” he asked.

Sebastian shook his head. “Not yet,” he said.

“You can,” Elliott said, resting his head back.

“Are you sure?” Sebastian asked. “Aren’t you sensitive?”

“If you’re quick,” Elliott managed, “it won’t be too bad.”

“I’m close,” Sebastian admitted. “I’m – I’m so close.”

“Do it,” Elliott said. “Please. Please, I want to – I want to get you there.”

Sebastian groaned and began to move again, trying to make it quick. He could tell from the look on Elliott’s face that Elliott was feeling it a little more intently than usual, but the sensation of drawing back and then thrusting into Elliott so much in succession had been more than he thought he could bear. Only the knowledge that Elliott needed it had been enough to keep him from falling through his pleasure.

And now, luxuriating in Elliott’s feel as he drove into and out of him again, Sebastian felt himself rapidly approaching his peak. He had barely held himself back so many times that he knew it would take just the slightest bit. He felt the cry start to rise from within him as the familiar churning in his stomach and blood and groin began to course. His muscles drew together and Sebastian closed his eyes. He could feel Elliott trembling under him, could hear the quiet encouragement from Elliott, the pleas to finish inside of him, the praise for how good Sebastian had made him feel –

Sebastian cried out as he came, thrusting deep into Elliott and his release tearing through him, pumping out and into Elliott. Sebastian’s arms gave out and he collapsed onto Elliott, his breath shuddering as he felt the afterglow settle upon him. He had never gone at so fast a pace. He hadn’t known he _could_ and would still be able to hold back. He was getting more used to being inside of Elliott. He was learning how to last longer, how to keep up his endurance. The thought made him glad.

But Elliott’s shaking didn’t subside, and Sebastian’s heart sank as he realized Elliott was crying again. He tightened his grip, holding Elliott as close as he could. He stroked Elliott’s hair and pressed kisses against Elliott’s forehead and temple and cheek, anything he could do to try and give Elliott comfort.

“I’m sorry,” Elliott managed to get out between his tears. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m such a bloody mess right now.”

“No. No, hey, it’s okay,” Sebastian said, brushing Elliott’s hair back from his forehead. “It’s – Elliott, it’s okay for you not to be okay. You don’t have to apologize for being upset. I’d be more worried if you weren’t upset.”

Elliott clung to Sebastian and buried his face into Sebastian’s neck. Sebastian tightened his grip around Elliott’s back, murmuring quietly, “You’ve been through hell. I can’t – I don’t even know if I’d be able to make it if that happened to me. You’re so much stronger than me. I wish… if I can do something, anything, please tell me. Please. I’ll do it.”

Elliott pulled back, a hiccup escaping him as he did. Sebastian wiped Elliott’s cheeks, staring into his eyes, trying to communicate what he wanted to say.

_I’m here for you. Please, Elliott, I’m here. What can I do? Tell me what I can do._

“Please,” Elliott began, then something made him hesitate.

“Yes?” Sebastian asked.

“Please, Sebastian,” Elliott said, reaching up and taking his hands. “Please let me tell Leah about us.”

Sebastian’s heart seized in his chest. “Are – that’s what you want?” he asked, trying to buy time.

Elliott managed a nod. “I can’t…” he looked around. “We’re breaking into the community center to have sex. This is – I feel completely humiliated. Anyone could walk in.”

“They won’t, not this late at night,” Sebastian protested. “And I locked the door.”

“That – Sebastian, that is _not the point,_ ” Elliott said, reaching up and placing his hands on Sebastian’s face. “I need us to have somewhere we can go. Someplace for just us. Someplace where we can just be with each other, somewhere we can…” he lowered his head and a sob wracked him again. “I need… I need to not feel ashamed. To not feel like you’re ashamed of me. Of us.”

Sebastian’s heart nearly froze in his chest. “I’m not…” he began. He swallowed hard, trying to clear the lump in his throat. “I’m not ashamed of you,” he said, his voice small. “I’ve never been ashamed of you. Or this, or…” he blinked, his eyes feeling hot. 

“Then please. Please let me tell Leah,” Elliott begged. “Please. If she knows we need somewhere to be away from the world, she’ll let us have the cabin for a few hours. It’s…” he shuddered, trying and failing to blink back the tears. He opened his mouth a few times, trying to get the words to come. Sebastian tried squeezing Elliott’s hand, which seemed to give him the courage he needed to speak.

Elliott looked up and met Sebastian’s gaze. He took in a slight breath and said, “You can’t understand until it happens to you how vulnerable you are when you’re homeless.” He swallowed. “I’m – I am completely dependent on the charity of other people right now. I have nowhere that’s shelter of my own. I can’t have you over to my cabin like we used to do. I can’t even plan anything more than a day or two out. I have to –” he closed his eyes tightly, pressing his lips together. “I have to have _some_ kind of security. Please. I feel like I’m losing myself. I –”

Sebastian leaned in, pressing his lips against Elliott’s. Elliott practically whimpered into Sebastian’s mouth and let Sebastian lean him back down against the floor. Nestled into the lining of his coat and with Sebastian’s arms around him and lips against his own, Elliott felt safe for the first time since he had been forced to leave his cabin. He clutched at Sebastian’s back with such force that it was almost painful to the younger man, but Sebastian continued to kiss Elliott softly, gently, feeling Elliott’s face start to relax into the sensation.

When Elliott’s muscles stopped locking up and he relaxed completely into Sebastian’s embrace, comforted both by the feeling of Sebastian’s skin on his arms and front and the soft lining of his coat on his back, Elliott finally opened his eyes to see Sebastian looking at him with a pained expression.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian finally said. “I’m so sorry, Elliott. I never – I didn’t want you to think I was ashamed of you. Or of us. Of… of this.” He lowered his head. “I’m a coward. I…” he swallowed. “Yes. Yes, you can tell Leah. I’m not ashamed. I’m just…”

Elliott reached up to put a hand on Sebastian’s cheek. Sebastian looked up at him, eyes still raw with emotion.

“Are you afraid?” Elliott asked quietly. Sebastian nodded. Elliott pursed his lips. “Why?” he asked. “I don’t expect anyone in Pelican Town would be cruel or vindictive.”

Sebastian’s face darkened. “Shows what you know,” he said, voice suddenly full of spite.

The change in Sebastian’s demeanor and the vehemence of his speech startled Elliott. “I…” he began. Sebastian seemed to realize what he had just said and how he had said it. His eyes shifted back to the expression Elliott had known before.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He swallowed. “There’s… I’ve got a lot of baggage still. I’m trying to –” he paused. There was no point in going into that now. “Anyway. What I’m dealing with doesn’t mean you can’t talk to your friends. And I know Leah’s really important to you, so…” he swallowed and nodded. “Go ahead. Tell her. It’s fine. I just… I need to figure out some things for myself before I tell mom and Sam and Abby and…”

_And it gets everywhere in town._

Elliott leaned up, kissing Sebastian and holding it for a long moment. “Thank you,” he murmured when he broke the kiss. “Thank you. Thank you.”

Guilt rushed through Sebastian at Elliott’s gratitude for such a simple thing. _I don’t deserve you._ It was hardly the first time he had thought it, and it still amazed him at how Elliott actually seemed to want to be with him. _You deserve someone so much better than me._ He dreaded when Elliott figured that out, that he could have anyone he wanted, that he didn’t have to settle for Sebastian.

“Can I – is there anything else I can do for you? Anything?” Sebastian asked quietly, trying to keep those thoughts at bay as much as possible.

“Hold me,” Elliott said. The words were quiet, almost pleading. “Please just… just hold me. Hold me a little longer, please.”

Sebastian wrapped his arms around Elliott as much as he could and nuzzled his face into Elliott’s neck. He felt a slight shiver run through Elliott at their touch and he closed his eyes, wishing he could take all of Elliott’s pain from him. Outside, the rain continued falling.

_I’m sorry I can’t be better for you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby steps, but still steps forward. This chapter, despite the pain both Sebastian and Elliott went through, was an important turning point in their relationship. They are both stubborn creatures, neither of whom wants to be a burden on his partner, but are learning that they have to rely on each other more than they have been. If you are in a relationship and struggling with anything, _talk to your significant other_. Any partner worth his, her, or their salt will not only listen to you but will be there for you to help you get through the worst of it.
> 
> This week marked another two major milestones in this story: we crossed 200,000 words and 400 pages in Microsoft Word, and “Fire Walk with Me” is now the longest story I have ever written in my entire life. I’m kind of amazed at how much I’ve been able to get out of this story so far, but a major reason for that is the amazing support and kind, thoughtful comments you all have left every single week. For that, I say thank you a thousand times over – you are all a major reason why this story has been going as strong as it has.
> 
> Next week, Elliott comes clean to Leah, Sebastian learns something that may shock and discredit him, and they both realize there’s something very strange going on in the woods. There’s going to be some more supernatural tingliness coming up soon, so stay tuned for that. I’ll see you next week, guys!
> 
> P.S. Those were 100% Sam’s sheets.


	16. Shades of Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The song I listened to while writing this chapter was “She Moves through the Fair” by B-Tribe, found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DJxp7NJxcFU).

“When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up, we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability. To be alive is to be vulnerable.”  
-Madeleine L’Engle

Sebastian and Elliott lay in each other’s arms for hours. They made no effort to dress – even with the relief of the mugginess from the rain, it was still hot enough where they could lie against each other without a stitch of clothing on and not be cold. Sebastian could feel the sweat drying on his back and neck, and the slight chill that came after each soft exhale from Elliott, momentarily warming his skin and then causing it to feel as gooseflesh.

Talking felt unnecessary. Each knew what the other was going through. Speaking about it would serve no real purpose. Instead, they remained by each other, fingers stroking quietly along skin, lips meeting with just enough pressure to be considered kisses, chests – one clear, the other scratchy, but it didn’t matter, none of that mattered now – pressed against one another. After all they had endured over the last week – two weeks? A week and a half? What was time anymore, anyway? – this was afterglow. Their sex had been near desperate, a drinking of one another as though they had just crawled halfway across the Calico Desert, and now they soaked in each other’s presence. Neither wanted to move. Neither cared about ever walking through the doors of the community center ever again.

But it had to end eventually. They had to return to their homes, they had to sleep. They had to face tomorrow, whatever tomorrow brought. It was Elliott who, reluctantly, withdrew from Sebastian, with the excuse that the rain seemed to be letting up and that he had to get back to the forest before it worsened. Sebastian agreed, ignoring the pang in his chest at having to separate, at being apart from Elliott.

They pulled their clothes on quietly, not truly looking at one another. The guilt of having used this place to seek each other, started to creep around them, and they didn’t want to think about it too intently. Before each knew it, he was fully clothed, as was his partner, and they stood, looking at each other.

Neither knew who it was that started kissing the other first, but both leaned into the kiss with everything he had. Their hands clutched at each other, tangling in hair, gripping at clothing, as their mouths pressed together, quiet noises of need and desire escaping them. They remained together, their lips and limbs and souls seeking each other desperately.

And then, after a minute or so, they pulled apart, eyes looking into each other.

“I’ll speak to her in the morning.” Elliott.

“Yeah.” Sebastian.

“It won’t be like this forever.”

“I know.”

“I miss you, terribly. I’ll ask – I’ll see if we can do this again. Soon.”

“I miss you, too. I – you’re all I think about. All day. I can’t get work done. I didn’t take on any more projects after what happened.”

“You mustn’t suffer because of me.”

“I never suffer because of you. You’re the only thing in my life that doesn’t make me suffer.”

“Oh, darling.”

Their kiss didn’t last as long this time, but each knew it had to be the last. It was late. Too late. They had stayed longer than they should. The rain would pick up again, and they would have to deal with it on their ways home.

But a few more seconds wouldn’t hurt.

~~~

The rain that followed wasn’t strong, but it was consistent enough to nearly soak Elliott through, even with his overcoat, by the time he made it back to the cottage. The entire walk home, he had dreaded returning. He didn’t want to have another fight. He was drenched; he had been so out of sorts when he left that he hadn’t thought to grab his umbrella. The windows of Leah’s cottage were dark. She had to be in bed already. He reached out for the doorknob and turned it, carefully stepping inside.

Elliott pulled his coat off and placed it over the nearby chair. He could already hear the water dripping from it onto the floor. _Bollocks._ He would have to clean that tomorrow. As harsh as Leah had been, she was right: he was a guest, and he needed to help keep her home clean. He turned just in time to see a figure in the darkness, standing near him.

Leah wordlessly handed him one of her large towels. It was dry, and warm, and Elliott felt relief as he used it on his face and hair. She took the towel from him when he was done and handed him his pajamas. She must have gotten them out for him.

Elliott didn’t know whether to say thank you or not, and eventually settled for moving through the darkened cabin toward the bathroom. He switched on the nightlight and quickly got changed. The feel of the soft cotton pajamas was a massive relief to his skin. He left the rest of his clothes in the hamper in the bathroom. They would need to do laundry soon. That was a sure thing.

When Elliott left the bathroom, he turned the nightlight off. His eyes were accustomed to the darkness of the cabin now, and he could see Leah sitting at the table. There was a steaming pot of tea – no doubt chamomile, neither of them would want any caffeine now – and a pair of mugs. Leah had her hands around one, looking up at him with an expression of regret.

Elliott remained standing in the dark, not knowing what to do or say. Eventually, he moved forward and dropped to a knee next to Leah, wrapping his arms around her. Leah choked on a sob as he did, encircling him with her own arms.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Shh, starling,” he said.

“I am,” she said. “I was a total bitch to you. I was all day.”

“It was your migraines,” Elliott said. “It’s always… you suffer so much with them. I know what you say isn’t really what you mean. And I’m sorry, too. I’m not the best houseguest. I should have helped more, especially with you feeling ill.”

“It just –” Leah buried her head in the crook of Elliott’s neck. “It hurts so much, Elliott.”

“I know, darling,” Elliott said softly. “I know.”

“It’s like I can’t even think of anything other than the pain,” she said. “It just – it _becomes_ me. I’m not anything but the pain, it’s so bad.”

“You have to talk to Harvey,” Elliott said, a quiet undercurrent of steel to his voice. “He’ll help you get a prescription. I know the one didn’t work out so well –”

Leah laughed bitterly. “Gushing nosebleeds all the time are a little worse than ‘didn’t work out so well,’” she said.

“That was one medication, Leah,” Elliott said, pulling back and looking at her. “You have to at least give something a try. I can’t stand seeing you in this much pain.”

Leah let out a long breath and nodded. “I know,” she finally admitted. “I know I have to try. But I’m scared.”

“I’ll be here,” Elliott said, placing a hand on her cheek. “I’ll be here to take care of you if you need. It’s the least I can do after you saved me. Twice now.”

Leah put her hand over Elliott’s and sniffled. “Will you forgive me for being so awful to you?” she asked.

“Always,” Elliott said, smiling. “You’re my best friend. I adore you more than anyone. But dear Yoba, you can be a bint sometimes.”

Leah laughed at that, relieved laughter, though she swatted at his shoulder. “Takes one to know one, Oscar Wilde,” she said.

Elliott chuckled and moved to take a seat, pouring himself a mug of tea. “So you’re feeling better now?” he asked.

“Much,” she said. She leaned her head forward and let out a breath. “It popped almost as soon as the rain came in. Light’s still a problem, but I actually feel like myself. And I feel really guilty that you got caught in this.” She looked up at him. “It isn’t safe to be out in a storm like this. You could get a really bad chill. To say nothing about the lightning.”

Elliott finished pouring himself the mug. His heart did a somersault in his chest. He brought the mug up to his mouth and murmured over it, “I wasn’t out in the storm the whole time.”

Leah furrowed her brow. “Oh?” she asked.

Elliott took a sip of his tea. It was a little bitter for his liking. He would have preferred some sugar or honey. When Lady Anne first taught him how to take tea at age eight, she was mortified at how many cubes of sugar he’d added to his cup. _“One, Elliott, one! You won’t taste anything but sugar if you add that much. You need to taste the tea.”_ He smiled a bit at the memory, then caught Leah’s eye.

“I met Sebastian,” he said.

“You walked all the way up to his house?” Leah asked, furrowing her brow.

“No,” Elliott said. “To the community center.” He looked down in his mug. He could feel Leah’s eyes on him. This was it. Once the words were out, there was no putting them back in. He took a breath in. “We needed somewhere to meet. Somewhere quiet that nobody else would be.”

“Why is that?” Leah asked, in a tone that made it abundantly clear she already knew the answer.

Elliott looked up at her. “So we could sleep together,” he said simply.

Leah smiled. It wasn’t a wide smile, one that she would have if he was telling her about his relationship with Sebastian as soon as it had happened, but it was a sincere one, one that spread to her eyes and radiated a measured warmth. She reached across the table and put her hand on Elliott’s free one.

“I told you he was singing that song to you,” she said.

“You were right,” he said. He was unable to keep the smile from his own face. “He…” Elliott swallowed. “He makes me so happy, Leah. He’s so good to me.”

“How long have you been… you know?” she asked.

“Since our trip to Zuzu City,” Elliott said.

“That’s – more than a month,” she said, knitting her brows. “Almost two. And you haven’t told me about it until now.” The question was implicit in her tone, though she didn’t ask it.

Elliott exhaled. “It’s his first relationship with another man,” he said. “He’s… anxious. I’m not sure what about, I’ve met his family and his friends and they all strike me as being lovely and supportive.”

“He’s a ball of anxiety,” Leah said. “I can feel it just by passing him in the street.”

“True,” Elliott admitted. “He asked me to… well, to give him some time to tell his mother and his friends.”

“Which you did,” Leah said.

Elliott was quiet. “I had a bit of a breakdown after we made love tonight,” he admitted. “We used to –” the words caught in his throat and he had to clear it. “We used to stay in my cabin. When we wanted some privacy. To be with each other.”

“Oh.” Leah suddenly understood. She let out a long breath. “So now…”

“The community center,” Elliott said quietly. “We did clean up after. I’m fairly certain there won’t be a stain.”

Leah snorted. “At least tell me where it was so I don’t sit there,” she said.

Elliott managed a small smile. “I asked him to let me tell you,” he said, looking up at her. “I…” he bit his lip. “I needed to tell you. To tell somebody. I haven’t even spoken to mum and dad about it.”

“And also so I could give you some privacy?” Leah asked.

Elliott chuckled, a little embarrassed. “I mean, if you’re so inclined…” he said.

Leah took a long sip of her own mug. “Of course,” she said. “Obviously. Though you’re going to have to clear it with me in advance.”

“Naturally,” Elliott said. “I wouldn’t spring that on you, starling.”

“And you’re cleaning my bedsheets before I get back,” she said.

“You are a complete and absolute gem,” Elliott said. Though his words were as grandiose as ever, there was a level of sincerity to his words that made Leah pause. He took her hand in his and squeezed it. “I wouldn’t have made it without you, you know. I wouldn’t be here, in Pelican Town. I wouldn’t have written my book. I never would have met Sebastian. And I’d be…” he sighed. “I’d probably be married to James now. Working some lower management job at Joja and drinking myself to sleep every night and wondering where everything went so wrong and how I ended up so miserable.”

Leah squeezed Elliott’s hand back. “You’ve saved me, too,” she said. “I wouldn’t have had the strength to leave Kel if you weren’t there helping me.”

Elliott ran his thumb lightly over her wrist. “You always had the strength, Leah,” he said. “You’re much stronger than me. You just needed someone to tell you it was okay.”

“Which you did,” Leah said. She settled back and let out a long breath, finishing the last of her tea. “But I guess I should lay my cards on the table, too,” she said. She set her mug down. “You’re not the only one who’s been sneaking around.”

Elliott’s eyes flashed excitedly and he leaned forward. “You cheeky trollop,” he said. “All this time, you’ve been off having your own sordid affair? Who is he? Or she, for that matter? I know it’s not Becca, your crush notwithstanding.”

Leah sighed. “Yoba, she’s hot,” she admitted. “No, not Becca. Somebody a little closer to home.”

Elliott furrowed, trying to think. He hadn’t seen Leah interacting with anyone in even the remotest sort of sordid manner. And there weren’t that many people who lived closer to her than Becca. Then again, Willow Lane wasn’t that far away.

“Sam?” he asked, looking up at her. “No, surely not.”

Leah shook her head. “No. Bless him, he’s a sweet boy, but…”

“Right,” Elliott said. He considered. “Emily, perhaps? You two are both creative, free spirits.”

“No, I think she’s seeing somebody,” Leah said. “Not sure who, but I tried flirting with her once and she gently let me down.”

“Hrm,” Elliott said. “Am I at least close?”

“Still a little far out,” Leah said, that smirk on her face. “Again, think about closer to home.”

Elliott furrowed his brows as he sipped at his tea. The only next-door neighbor Leah had was Marnie, and she was obviously involved with Lewis. And it wasn’t as though anybody else –

Elliott nearly spat out his tea, starting to cough wildly. “No,” he finally said, eyes watering as he continued to hack. “Shane? Truly?”

Leah grinned. “How do you think I got him over to your place so quick?” she asked.

“I can’t even –” Elliott wiped the tears his coughing fit had brought from his eyes. “Shane? You two are so unalike.”

“He’s… a lot more sensitive than you’d realize,” Leah said.

“Well, how did it start? How long has it been going on?” Elliott asked.

“Since October,” Leah said. “Actually, the night we celebrated your birthday at the saloon. I walked back by myself and saw him sitting out on the dock. And he looked so lost. I went out and asked if he was okay. I’m not even sure if he saw me. He just started asking me questions about if I ever felt like life didn’t have a point, if I felt like I was in an abyss and not able to get out.”

“Odd he could see that,” Elliott said quietly. Leah had been deeply insecure about her art before she’d been convinced to hold her art show, though she kept it hidden from everyone but Elliott.

“That’s what I told him,” Leah said. She let out a long breath through her nose. “We talked. For a long time. I… honestly don’t remember if I’d ever talked to Shane anywhere near that amount before. It was almost two by the time we got up. And I asked him if he’d like to stay the night at my place.”

“And did he?” Elliott asked.

Leah looked up and smiled saucily. “What do you think, Prudence?” she asked.

“Oh, darling, I’m so glad. You finally got some,” Elliott said, leaning forward.

Leah laughed. “Screw you, Elliott,” she said. “Anyway. I don’t know how much of a relationship it really is. He listens to me when I talk about my art and sometimes has ideas that are… maddeningly sensible. And I listen to him when he’s struggling with his drinking. Or about raising Jas. Marnie’s had me over a few times for dinner. I’m pretty sure she knows, the way she gives us glances.”

Elliott’s smile softened. “I’m very happy for you, Leah,” he said. “I hope he treats you well.”

“Oh, are you kidding?” Leah asked. “He acts like I just fell from Yoba. Which is weird, because I’m _pretty_ sure he’s an atheist.”

“Good. I’m glad,” Elliott said. He finished the last of his tea and did the best he could to affix a stern look. “Just make sure that he knows I’ll be very cross with him if he does anything wrong.”

“And what exactly are you planning to threaten him with?” Leah asked with clear amusement.

“The worst thing in the world,” Elliott said, leaning forward ominously. “I’ll slink over to the ranch. I’ll walk through the door. I’ll sit myself down at the table. And when Marnie comes over to ask how she can help me…” he lowered his voice to a hissing threat, _“I’ll cry.”_

~~~

Sebastian didn’t go directly home. Unlike Elliott, he’d thought to bring an umbrella, which he’d left just outside the community center. And after they left each other, Sebastian went up to the lake, crouching down outside it and watching the rain fall on the dark water.

He was worried sick about Elliott. He always worried about Elliott a little bit, but usually that manifested in a sense of _I hope he’s doing okay._ From what Elliott had said and done, he clearly was not doing okay.

Sebastian recognized the signs of depression. He’d been living with them for long enough that they had settled in almost comfortably. He was used to them. He almost didn’t know what living without depression was like. As long as he could remember, there was a malaise, a numbness at the back of his mind. It wasn’t sadness, not really, though it could manifest that way. The worst part of it was the sense that nothing he could do mattered. He knew he really should take Harvey’s advice and go talk to someone, a shrink who could give him some pills that would level him out and make him not feel so numb all the time.

But right now, Sebastian was more worried for Elliott than he was for himself. Elliott’s depression had come on almost instantly, as soon as he’d had to leave the cabin and move in with Leah. Elliott hadn’t told him what it was that made him so upset tonight, what made him have to see Sebastian. What made him be so callous with himself, pushing Sebastian to enter him long before he was ready, clearly feeling intense pain from the penetration. Sebastian had no idea what it was. And that scared him.

One of the things he liked about programming was the predictability of it. If he ran code, it should work in the way he’d programmed it. If it wasn’t working, then there was a problem that needed fixing. It gave some structure to his life, thinking about how to organize and set up the series of operations that would eventually make a program work in the way it was supposed to. Over the last ten years, Sebastian had become a creature of habit. He took after mom in that way, he supposed, though he’d sooner blow his head off than get up as early as she did. He liked doing things in a specific way. Routine was comforting. He didn’t have to think too much about anything if he was just doing the same cycle over and over again.

And then Elliott had thrown all that out the window. Suddenly, it was the new and the possible that exhilarated him. Elliott’s touch and embrace and kiss were enough to get his blood coursing. Even the thought of being with Elliott could make his pulse race. He didn’t always know how Elliott would react, but up until now, he’d been able to guess. Elliott was always kind. Always gentle. Always smiling at him.

An Elliott who didn’t smile scared him to death. He didn’t know how to make things better. Everything that came out of his mouth when he was trying to say something meaningful sounded so stupid. Nothing like the way Elliott used to reassure him, the way he could make words weave together and surround him, comforting him, making him feel as though everything was going to be okay. He didn’t know how to tell Elliott things would be okay.

He needed to smoke. He’d gone through his last two joints in the past week, he’d been so anxious. He smoked the last one a few hours after he got home from Pierre’s, when he’d had the panic attack. Mom had heard from Caroline already, of course, and she’d talked to him, wanted to make sure he was all right. It was the last thing he needed. He locked himself in his room and didn’t even come out for dinner. And then that night, after everyone was asleep, he’d gone out by the lake and smoked his joint and felt the blessed smoothing out of his nerves. It took enough of the edge off where he didn’t feel like he wanted to die.

He needed to talk to Emily. Maybe she would be going to the desert soon.

Eventually, Sebastian got tired of sitting out by the lake and got up from his hunched, squatting position. He moved back toward the house, taking one step at a time. All the lights were out. Mom and Demetrius would definitely be in bed by now. He just had to get in and get down to his room, where it was safe. And then he could lie in bed for a few hours and stare at the ceiling and wonder why he had to be so fucking stupid when it came to this sort of thing.

The door to the mud room slid open easily, the slight creak of the hinge easily hid in the noise from the rainfall. Sebastian kicked off his boots, shook out the umbrella, and left it next to the door. He passed through into the house and started to move for the stairs.

“You’re out late.”

The words almost made his heart stop and he spun around quickly. Maru was there, sitting in the dark at the kitchen table. There were some leftovers in front of her, though she didn’t look like she’d eaten any.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said.

She glanced at the windows and the rain pelting against the glass. “It’s pretty rotten out there,” she said. She looked back at him. “You’ve been gone almost three hours.”

“So what?” he asked, feeling his irritation start to rise. He’d been good about clamping down on it of late, pushing it aside, but he needed an outlet for his venom. Maru was an easy target, she always was. She fought back, so he didn’t feel bad about getting mad at her. “You’re not my babysitter.”

Even in the darkness, he could see the way she clenched her jaw. It was the same way Demetrius did when he got irritated. The similarity scratched at his nerves more.

“I’m allowed to be worried about you, Seb,” she said, putting her fork down.

“Yeah, well, don’t be,” he shot back. “I don’t need you breathing down my neck.”

“I’m not breathing down your neck,” Maru said. Her voice was getting higher. If they got much louder, he knew mom or Demetrius would wake up and yell at them to stop fighting. “But I want to know, where were you?”

“Fuck off, Maru,” Sebastian spat. He turned and made his way for the stairs leading down to his bedroom. He heard her push her chair away from the table. No doubt she’d throw one last barb his way before he got the door closed. If he hurried, he could probably cut half of it off.

But what Maru said, and the tone she took when she said it, weren’t what Sebastian was expecting at all. Her voice was shaky, as though it was taking everything in her to get the words out. And the words themselves stopped him in his tracks, a couple of steps from the bottom of the stairs.

“I saw you.”

Sebastian froze. His heart felt like it might stop in his chest. _Play it cool. Play it off. Maybe she saw you toking up. It doesn’t mean anything._ He swallowed and turned, looking up the stairs. She stood between him and the rest of the house, an ominous shadow that cut off what little light might have crept down and illuminated him.

“What do you mean?” he asked, hating the waver in his voice as it came out. _Fuck. Can’t you just keep it together?_

Maru was quiet for a moment. “The night Elliott stayed over,” she said. He couldn’t make out her face, but it sounded for a second like she might start crying. “I was in the kitchen. I was getting a drink of water. I didn’t hear you come up the stairs. I went around the corner and I… I saw you. Kissing him.”

Sebastian felt as though his body would crumble away from him, as though it would cease to be. His lungs squeezed so tight in his chest he thought they might pop. He wasn’t even aware how his legs started to go out from under him until he was sitting half on the stair he’d been standing on and half on the one below it.

Maru was down the stairs in a flash. “Seb? Seb, it’s okay,” she said, kneeling down next to him. It was dark, but his eyes had adjusted enough to see the worry on her face. “I… I didn’t know how to say it. But I figured when you left so fast, you were…”

“Please.” The word took everything in him to get out, and he barely managed to croak it. His lips and tongue felt dry. He had no idea how to make the words come out. Maru was closer to him now than he could remember her being since they were children. Even when they ate dinner at the table or sat in the backseat, they were never this close to each other. He was suddenly aware of her presence in a way that he hadn’t been in ages. 

“What?” she asked. He didn’t know if she couldn’t understand him or if she wasn’t sure what he was asking for.

“Please.” The word again. His eyes were hot and his limbs heavy. “Please don’t – don’t tell – don’t –”

He wasn’t even aware that he had started crying until he felt her arms around him. It struck him like a thunderbolt that he honestly couldn’t remember the last time Maru touched him, let alone hugged him. He choked on a half-sob, half-plea as she began stroking his hair.

“I haven’t told anyone,” she reassured him. “I haven’t – I mean, I don’t think mom or dad would be upset at all. Mom would be thrilled you found somebody. But it’s not my news to tell.”

Sebastian clutched at Maru, the fear and worry pouring out of him. He couldn’t form words. He didn’t even know if he could stand up.

“Come on,” Maru said quietly. She helped him up to his feet and guided him down the last few steps to his room. She flicked the light on and helped him walk over to his bed. He didn’t sit so much as collapse down onto it and she sat next to him, putting her arms around him and still stroking his hair.

Sebastian had been terrified of anyone finding out about him and Elliott for weeks. And now, in one night, Leah and Maru both knew. 

“It’s okay, Seb,” Maru was saying to him. The words ricocheted off him. They didn’t sink in, but he felt them as they touched his skin or hair or ears and then failed to register.

_She knows. She knows and she tells Penny everything. And if Penny tells Pam and Pam has too much to drink at the saloon and it comes out and everyone knows they’ll all know they’re all going to know_

“Seb!” The word shocked him back and he was suddenly aware of how much his lungs hurt. He had been breathing heavily, too hard, too fast, the oxygen didn’t have a chance to circulate. His eyes struggled to focus on the Maru-shaped blur in front of him and he felt her hands on his neck, checking his pulse, looking at his vitals.

_Maybe she really did pick something up from working with Harvey._

“Slow down. Just – it’s okay. You’re okay,” Maru was telling him. Something about her voice, the way she was speaking, it made him relax just slightly. He was in his room. He was where he was safe. His lungs stopped hurting so bad and he could feel the rawness in his throat dissipate. His breathing was still heavy, that hadn’t changed, but it was heaviness that could be managed, the kind that wouldn’t make him pass out or go into shock. He was alive. He was still alive, somehow, and Maru was talking to him and telling him something – he couldn’t focus, couldn’t figure out her words – and it made his brain stop feeling like it was cooking itself at a rolling boil.

“I haven’t told anybody.” The words sunk in this time. Maru’s face was about as serious as he had ever seen it. “I’m not going to.”

“Pen –” He couldn’t even get out the full word.

“No, not even Penny,” Maru said. “There’s…” she sighed. “I’m not going to out you to anyone. Do you understand? I’m not going to tell anyone.”

Whatever valve or pipe was preventing the oxygen from reaching his brain came unclogged and Sebastian’s mind cleared. He was suddenly aware of Maru’s arm around him, the way she was stroking his cheek, how he was leaning into her, clutching at her, squeezing her torso in a way that couldn’t have been comfortable. He let go and tried to sit up as straight as he could. 

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“No,” he answered, honestly for once. “No, I’m…” he took in a shuddering breath. He looked down at the bedspread, but he could feel her eyes on him. “I haven’t been okay for a long time,” he admitted.

“I know,” she said quietly.

Sebastian sniffled. “And Elliott, he’s…” he closed his eyes. “He’s doing so bad, Maru. He’s so – I’ve never seen him this bad. It’s like he’s broken. He thought…” he hesitated. Then he swallowed.

_Screw it. She already knows._

“He wanted to buy the cabin from the town,” he said quietly, sniffling again. “That was why he was working so hard, why he wanted to get his book finished. He’s – he was working ten, twelve-hour days writing, revising, getting it done so that he could get his book to the publisher for the fall slate. If he didn’t rush, it would have been on the winter slate and he wouldn’t… he’d have to…” He found himself trailing off. Elliott had worked so hard, so fucking hard to get his book done. Sebastian had seen the tiredness on his face and in his eyes, even when he smiled. He’d sensed how worried Elliott had been, how desperately he wanted to beat this self-imposed deadline. And for what?

Maru took his hand and squeezed it. “How long have you two been together?” she asked.

“Since we went to Zuzu.” Sebastian’s voice was small. “He… I –” the words caught in his throat. “We were just friends before that. There wasn’t anything that – we didn’t do anything before –” Everything he was saying sounded stupid. He knew what he wanted to say, he knew what he wanted to get out, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t get the words to form. He took in a deep breath and forced himself to stop talking. To think, just _think_ for a minute, you fucking idiot. When he let the breath out, the words came easier this time.

“We went to the community center tonight,” he said, still looking down at the sheets. “He was… I’ve never seen him that bad, he was falling apart. I’m scared, Maru. I –” his lips were dry and he licked at them out of habit. “When I’m with him, I feel… okay. I feel like I might be all right. He’s…”

“He’s good for you.” The words made him focus and he looked up. Maru’s expression was one of concern. “You’ve been different, Seb. I don’t know what it is about him, but he does something to you. He makes it like you’re not so down or worried or anxious about everything. He makes you happier. He makes you less moody. It’s not hard to see.”

Sebastian’s stomach clenched again. _People know. They must know. They have to know._ “I don’t want to lose him,” he said. “But I’m…” Another shuddering breath. “I’m scared,” he finally admitted. “I don’t want – people already think I’m a freak. They all talk about me, I hear it, I see their eyes. I’m – they – it’s – it’s one more thing. One more thing for them to talk about.”

Maru put her hand on his shoulder. “Everybody in Pelican Town knows everybody else,” she said, a serious expression on her face. “Everyone talks because there is _nothing_ to do here.” Sebastian managed a laugh at that. “It doesn’t mean anything. It’s background noise. Nobody thinks about what sort of gossip they’re spreading or what they’ve heard for more than a minute or two. If you don’t want people to know you’re gay, you don’t have to tell them. But you have to make sure Elliott’s okay with that.”

 _You’re gay._ It was the first time anyone had said the words to him so matter-of-factly. He’d had the words spat at him, often as a slur, on the bus to or from school, or in the locker room, or in passing between classes. He’d heard it so much that it almost seemed like it had to be part of him. But nobody had just calmly stated it to him before. The words didn’t seem so bad now.

_I’m Sebastian Larsson. I’m short. I’m skinny. I’m gay._

He took in a long, slow breath. “I’m not being fair to him,” he said quietly. “He’s… he said he’d wait, until I was ready to tell people.”

“That’s generous of him,” Maru said evenly. He could tell she was trying to be as neutral as she could be.

“Yeah,” he said. He wiped at his face with the back of his hand. “Yeah, it is. But it’s chafing on him. I know it is. I told him he could tell Leah. She’s his best friend.”

“Are you going to tell Sam?” Maru asked.

The question was innocent, he knew Maru didn’t mean anything by it, but the idea seized his heart. “Sam? _Samson Fischer?_ Are you fucking kidding me?” he asked, his voice wavering. “Whatever goes through his head is on his tongue and out his mouth it goes. He doesn’t think. He’d just say something about it, and his mom would talk to Mrs. Cooper and then everybody in town…”

“Wouldn’t care.” The words snapped him back again. Maru let out a breath. “Seb, I…” she seemed like she wanted to say something, then looked at him. “Okay. What I’m going to say might sound mean, but I actually want it to make you feel better.”

“Okay,” Sebastian said warily.

“You are really not that interesting,” Maru said.

Sebastian blinked. “What?” he asked, trying to process.

“You are not interesting enough where everybody stares at you every time you go out or talks about you all the time,” Maru said. “If anything, I’ve heard people talk about you a lot less the last few years. I’m not going to pretend nobody says anything about you ever, but… it’s way, way less than you think.”

Sebastian felt as though Maru had reached into his brain and pressed a button to perform a hard reset. He looked at her, words moving through him but not quite coming to his mouth. He almost felt as though he should be offended – _how dare you say that I’m not interesting enough to be the center of gossip in this little backwater town_ – but the more he thought about it, the more ridiculous it was.

Eventually, he found his words. “Why…” he began, croaking out the word before he cleared his throat and started again. “Why are you being nice to me?” he asked.

Maru looked suddenly crestfallen and Sebastian felt an acute pang of regret. “Because you’re my brother,” she said, her voice as raw as his had been before. “You’re my brother and I love you. I know you don’t like me, you’ve never liked me. But I…”

A hot wave of guilt crashed over Sebastian. His stomach clenched and turned and he felt lower than he could remember in a very, very long time. “I…” he began. He and Maru’s eyes met. And then her arms were around him and he could feel her shoulders shaking. He closed his eyes tightly and returned her hug, hugging her back, really _hugging_ her, not the awkward half-hug on birthdays and the Feast of the Winter Star when one of them opened a present from the other and mom and Demetrius wanted them to hug for a picture.

It wasn’t her fault. The thought crystallized, intense and looming, and consumed him. None of the things he had been mad at her for, really mad at her, were entirely her fault. When they fought, he gave back to her just as good as he got, and it was usually him starting it. Demetrius favoring her, always working with her, not asking him questions about his work, that wasn’t her fault. Mom and Demetrius being proud of her for getting a job, that wasn’t her fault. _I’ve been mad at her for years for things she didn’t have anything to do with._

It turned out that he wasn’t quite out of tears just yet.

~~~

On a hot Tuesday afternoon, Elliott left Pierre’s with another load of groceries in the reusable shopping bags. The day Sebastian had had his panic attack, Elliott had only bought what he had in his hands before rushing out the door after him and Becca. He made an excuse to Leah about how Pierre’s shipments had been delayed and promised to go back the next week to pick up everything they needed.

Things had been different since he and Leah cleared the air with each other. They’d opened up, explained and expressed things each had been keeping inside. He told her about how he was falling deeper and desperately for Sebastian. She admitted that she found herself doodling small chickens and a mostly-unshaven face when she should be doing other artwork. They had talked long into the night and then both went to bed, sleeping for hours upon hours. And they’d come to an agreement.

The next time Shane had to go pick up a collection of feed and seed for the ranch, she would go to Grampleton with him. They’d stay overnight and enjoy each other’s company, which would give Elliott the cottage to spend the night with Sebastian. Elliott would make sure to clean up anything that needed cleaning before Leah got back the next day. And they could make other arrangements, as necessary, as the weeks went on.

It was almost the end of July, and Elliott’s spirits were higher than they had been since he had been forced to move. He felt the worst of his melancholy depart – it wasn’t completely gone, but it was mostly removed – when he realized it was less than a week until August. And then they just had to get through the hottest month of the year, and then it would be September. Cynthia had told him they had to wait until the book was released before signing him to a multi-book contract, but that she would get him the contract as soon as she was able. And then, when the book started selling, he’d have income. Actual _income_ , something he had earned through his own creation, through his hard work and the long nights and the constant pushing to try and get the book finished.

 _When Stars Collide_ was scheduled to be one of the three new releases on Zuzu Continental’s sci-fi slate for autumn. Every time Elliott thought of it, he got a slight rush of excitement in his stomach. His book was about to be published. _His_ book. He had wanted to be an author for so long, and now he could say that he actually was one.

 _One more month. Just one more bloody month._ He could get through a month. He knew he could. He had Leah and he had Sebastian and he had Willy and he had his other friends in town. They would help him get through it.

Elliott heard a noise of recognition as he passed by the mayor’s manor and paused. A familiar newsboy cap rose from behind one of the rows of flowers and Lewis approached the hedge that kept his yard lined. Elliott hadn’t spoken with the mayor since that awful day on the beach and he offered Lewis a small smile.

“Elliott, just who I wanted to see,” Lewis said, removing his gardening gloves. “I wanted to check and see how you were getting on.”

“I’m… doing well, about as well as might be expected, thank you,” Elliott said. He didn’t resent Lewis for the situation, it couldn’t be helped, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit uneasy speaking with him. Sebastian had been right: if Lewis had gotten an inspection, Elliott wouldn’t have been in such a dangerous situation.

“Good. That’s good,” Lewis said. He wiped at his brow. “Yoba, that sun is merciless today,” he mumbled, glancing up at the sky as though the sun had personally decided to cause him discomfort. He looked back down. “I did want to tell you that I’ve done some looking at the town’s budget for the rest of the year,” he said. “And I think, if we hit our targets for revenue at the fair, I’ll be able to cut you a deal if you want to purchase a place here in town.”

“Oh?” Elliott asked, hope and wariness spiking in him simultaneously.

“What I can do – again, depending on if we make our budget – is if you want to buy some property or some land here in Pelican Town, I could credit you the money you spent on rent up to the time you had to leave the cabin toward your down payment,” Lewis said. “I can’t refund it to you outright, we don’t have the resources to do that, but I do feel quite terrible about how it all went. This is the least we could do.”

Elliott felt a rush of relief. “That – well, that’s very generous of you, Mayor Lewis,” he said. His smile felt more sincere. “I would – if I can manage to get together some money to buy some land, I will definitely take you up on that.”

“Good! Good, I’m glad,” Lewis said, smiling up at Elliott. “Whenever you’re ready, just come by and I’ll be happy to tell you what lots the town owns. It would just be the land, you’d have to build the home yourself, but Robin can be very reasonable. I’m sure she’d work with you.”

“Thank you very, very much,” Elliott said. He felt a sudden weight come off of him, a weight he’d been carrying from the unsurety of his situation. _I won’t have to come up with so much. Once I know what my income will be, I can start putting aside money. I might – I just might be able to do this._

“Oh, you’re quite welcome,” Lewis said. He let out a breath and reached back to rub his neck. Elliott could see where he was getting some sun on his hands and the other exposed skin. “It’s been – well, it’s been quite a while since the last time we’ve had new residents,” he said. “And you and Leah and Becca all moved here within a couple of years of each other. We’d love for you all to stay. I know you’re a bit far from home, but you really have become part of the community here.”

“Thank you,” Elliott said. “I feel that way, too, though I’m… well, I suppose I’m never quite sure how I’m coming across.” He managed a small chuckle. “I’m sure nobody had much of an idea what to do with me when I first showed up.”

Lewis chuckled. “There were definitely a few tongues wagging at the saloon about Leah’s handsome writer friend,” he said. “But you’ve settled in quite nicely. It’s nice to see a young person who’s always so polite and respectful.”

 _I’m thirty-two. I’m hardly young._ Elliott bit back the comment. Lewis was definitely a member of the older generation. Not quite as old as Granny and George Mullner, but he had certainly been here for some time. So he smiled and made a joke at his own expense. “It’s what growing up in Pangolais does to you,” he said. “You know if we forget to say ‘please’ when asking for tea, the queen personally shows up to throw us in the tower.”

Elliott knew the parry had worked when Lewis started laughing. It was an old ruse, one that he had started when he was dating James, polished at school, and refined to perfection in Pelican Town. Mock the place he came from, play up his accent, let everyone around him feel as though they get a good laugh in, and he had his opening to shift or exit from the conversation. He didn’t like doing it. He often felt that Ferngillians were people prone to stereotype those from other places – and goodness knew, he certainly got enough of that when he first moved and his accent was even more pronounced than it was now, before he had tempered it somewhat so he wasn’t having those around him openly mock him, speaking in such an overtly proper tone of voice that it made his stomach shrivel and had him heartsick for home.

“Well, thank you very much for the offer, Lewis,” Elliott said, apologetically holding up his shopping bags, “but I do need to dash. I’m afraid my produce is already wilting in this heat.”

“Oh, yes, go get that in the fridge,” Lewis said. “I think I’m going to sit inside until it’s a bit cooler this evening. You have a good day, Elliott.”

“And you as well, Mr. Mayor,” Elliott said, inclining his head respectfully before he turned and started making his way toward the southwest part of town. He was glad for the news, grateful that Lewis had found some way to try and pay him back for the horrible experience he’d been through, for renting an unsafe, drafty, miserable cabin to him for two years.

Elliott hadn’t been stupid. He’d looked around. He wasn’t married to the idea of living in Pelican Town, though the beach did draw him. He’d seen what his money could get him in Grampleton or Blue Springs or one of the other suburbs of Zuzu City. He _could_ have made it work. He would have been eating scraps and possibly selling his plasma every other week, but he would have been able to survive. What had settled him on Pelican Town was the affordability of the cabin. It was the most affordable rental in at least a hundred miles, certainly the only one that was beachfront property. And Leah was there. And the people were friendly.

And he could have easily died if a bad storm had come in. One of the beams could have come undone and sent the entire roof caving in, crushing him in his bed and his bookcase and the cabinets that held his mugs and his computer with his failed drafts and all his dreams and ideas and hopes and fears. The thought made him shiver in the way that mum always said meant a goose somewhere was walking over his grave. As a child, he’d thought that surely he would end up buried in the municipal park in Marlbury. That was the only spot that saw enough geese to explain how he would get the shivers thinking about things that made him worry.

He adjusted his grip on the bags, moving faster without fully being aware of it. Leah had told him that morning how Shane would be leaving around five, going to Grampleton. She would catch a ride with him, leaving the implication open. He had texted Sebastian, fingers trembling in a way he was unaccustomed to. His heart had pounded in his chest as he typed the message, and he had checked it, going over it multiple times before he had finally felt confident enough to hit send.

_Leah is going to be out of town tonight. She said that she should be gone by five. If you’d like to come over, I could make you dinner and we could have a proper evening together. You could even stay the night, if you like. Or if you’d rather sleep back at your home, we could at least have a few hours together, uninterrupted. Are you free? I hope so. I miss you so very much._

He’d hit send and anxiously stared at his phone, watching and waiting. Sebastian typed so much faster than he did. Elliott had to select each letter one at a time by pressing the keypad on his phone, while Sebastian had a large touch-screen he could make use of. Fifteen seconds passed. Then thirty. Forty-five.

_He must be busy. Maybe he’s working. Maybe he has his headphones on and didn’t hear the chime._

And then the small icon indicating he had a message changed. Elliott pressed the button to pull up the text as quick as he could.

_**Yes. Obviously, yes. Even if I had plans, I’d break them. I’ll be there at five. And I’ll stay the night. I can’t wait to see you.** _

The excitement that had come through the text made Elliott’s heart glad. He had no idea why Sebastian was still so enthusiastic about being with him, but he was intensely grateful for Sebastian’s continued presence. He had long been intimidated by the idea of being with a younger man. Not that he didn’t find them attractive, some of them, anyway. Not the ones who were trying too hard, who looked like whatever style was in at the moment and spoke in clichés or quotes from the hip TV shows. The quieter ones, the ones who looked somewhat unsure, but who would return a smile with the most grateful expression. The ones whose faces lit up to receive any attention at all.

But a relationship with a younger man had never materialized. Nothing beyond the occasional fling, a night or two or three shared and then messages not returned or only vaguely answered. For some reason, Elliott had always had relationships with men older than him. Harvey had been much more his type when he moved to Pelican Town than Sebastian. Harvey wasn’t only older, he was taller, and he was overtly kind. Much more so than Sebastian, who barely even showed up on Elliott’s radar the first year and a half he lived here. Before that night on the pier, when Sebastian had cracked open just a bit, and like a geode shown the beautiful light and color inside.

With a smile halfway between amused and nostalgic, Elliott remembered his first time meeting Sebastian. Leah had brought him to the saloon the day after he arrived and introduced him to the townsfolk. Some had been gregarious from the start, telling him how glad they were he was there. Others had been more reticent, polite enough but not demonstrative.

And Sebastian had fallen into the last category. The ones who looked completely uninterested, who gave him a nod, if anything, and then moved away. He had seen Sebastian cast an annoyed glance at Abigail, who Elliott recalled as being a bit gigglier than he had seen from her at other times. Before he mentioned his ex-boyfriend and she deflated a bit.

Elliott had always assumed from that encounter that Sebastian had been interested in Abigail. They certainly spent enough time together, them and Sam, and few of them had talked to him. He had only spoken with Sam through their Solarian Chronicles games, and the occasional other moment in town. Abigail was still a bit of a mystery to him. He supposed he was as guilty as anyone else of assuming things at first. He had assumed Sebastian was straight, that he was interested in Abigail, that he didn’t want to get to know Elliott at all.

And now, he was pushing his way into Leah’s cottage, getting ready to prepare a dinner for them both, before they would make love into the evening and fall asleep in each other’s arms for the first time since the Luau. Elliott’s heart almost gave out at how much he craved being an hour and a half in the future. When he could see Sebastian, could kiss him, could –

“Hey, Romeo, stop thinking about boinking him and close the door before you let all the heat in!”

Elliott laughed as he was pulled out of his reverie and reached back to close the door with his foot. “My apologies, starling,” he said, looking over at Leah. She grinned up from her overnight bag. They had gotten along much better since the night they stayed up, talking about their plans and the secrets each had been keeping. The heat of summer hadn’t broken, but a fever that had been looming in their friendship had. Things were better now. Neither felt the need to keep secrets hidden inside, crushed up like broken glass and just as sharp, poking them and making them bleed.

Elliott unloaded his groceries in the kitchen and started to pull out some equipment. He would need to get a start if he and Sebastian were going to eat right at five. “Are you planning on wearing anything racy under those sensible suspenders to get your paramour’s blood flowing?” he asked.

“I mean, I have boobs. Those work,” Leah said, placing a shirt in her pack. “You overestimate straight guys, my friend.”

Elliott tsked disapprovingly as he pulled out a colander, emptying a bag of radishes into it. “One of these days, you’ll have to let me get a hold of him and teach him how to be a proper gentleman,” he said. “Unless you prefer to be charmed by –” 

“Nope,” Leah said, pointing a finger in the direction of the kitchen. “Don’t you even start. Not when you’ve been sneaking around with a little gothling who’s got a face full of piercings.”

The teasing was familiar, the way they had teased each other about significant others. It was one of the things that they had bonded over when he was seeing James and she was seeing Kel. Would they have been as close as they were if they hadn’t helped each other out of terrible relationships? Elliott didn’t know. They had been friends, certainly, they liked each other well enough at the time he’d invited Leah to a party at his and James’s apartment, and happened to introduce her to James’s friend.

Kel. Kelvin. Elliott had to admit he was handsome, tall with a deliberately messy cut of brown hair. He could be charming, too. He had certainly charmed Elliott when James had introduced them. Words flowed off Kel’s tongue in a way that even Elliott was jealous of. The way they had when he had introduced Kel to Leah. She had thrown some scoffing and guff back at him, which he took as a challenge. They talked most of the evening and Elliott had been so pleased when he’d gone to bed. _What a good match they are,_ he’d thought to himself.

He’d been wrong. So very, very wrong.

Kel’s possessiveness hadn’t started right away. It wasn’t until he and Leah were living together, when she was putting together her portfolio for graduation, when he started to circle the wagons. Elliott had been surprised at first with how neither Kel nor Leah seemed to want to meet up much. They had been so sociable, they had always wanted to meet him and James, or some of their other friends, for drinks. James had been dismissive at first, saying it was just the excitement of moving in together, that they were probably hardly leaving the bedroom. But even he had admitted as the weeks and then the months went on that it was strange not to hear from either of them other than the occasional text or message.

Leah was supposed to graduate in spring, the year before Elliott did. They had started their programs in the same year, but his was three years compared to her two. She had always been on top of everything. She had never missed a deadline, had gotten rave reviews from her professors, had even sold a couple of pieces at student art shows. So when Elliott emailed her to ask about her graduation and she told him she was pushing it back to summer, he’d gotten deeply worried.

It was lucky that Elliott knew about Leah’s love for farmer’s markets, and about the one that was just a few blocks away from her and Kel’s apartment. He got up early one Saturday and went, “accidentally” bumping into her and asking how she was. From the dark circles under her eyes and her haunted expression, he knew something had gone terribly wrong.

Kel never hit her. That was the first thing she told Elliott. He had never gotten physical with her, but he had been wearing her down with a constant stream of criticism, telling her how unrealistic her dream was, how she would never be an artist, how she could easily go back to school, she was only in her mid-twenties, didn’t she want to make something of herself, didn’t she want to help contribute to their expenses, didn’t she know how artists struggled their entire lives and never were appreciated until after they were dead?

Leah had started crying somewhere between the blueberries and the sweet potatoes. Elliott had ignored the dirty looks he got from the other customers – no doubt, they thought he had just made his girlfriend cry – and instead whisked her away, sitting her down on a bench and getting the whole story out of her. Kel had been wonderful, his usual charming self. Until he convinced her to move in. To save money.

Elliott slowly sliced radishes as he remembered planning with Leah how she would still be able to graduate in spring if she just kept at her work, if she got her portfolio of woodwork and paintings together. How after she graduated, they would wait for a day Kel was at work and he would show up at her apartment and help her pack. They would get everything together and have her out in a single day. And they did. They got only the necessities, leaving a lot behind, things Leah had been heartsick to let go, some books of paintings and clothing and other things that would have been nice, but which they didn’t have time to pack. He had paid himself for a taxi to take them to Zuzu Central Station and then she’d taken the train as far as she could get. To Grampleton, to visit with some of her old friends she had known during her woodworking apprenticeship.

Leah had worked for a couple of months in Grampleton. And then she’d been told about a carpenter who used to live in Grampleton, who had moved with her family a little further south in the valley, to a small hamlet named Pelican Town. She’d looked into the town, and found out about a cottage for rent, and moved. She kept Elliott apprised of everything, telling him where she was and how she was doing. And then when he needed to leave James, she had been a place for him to land.

Elliott finished slicing the radishes and kept them in a bowl of water so they didn’t discolor. He rinsed the cutting board and pulled out the tuna he had bought from Willy, a single steak that was enough for his purposes. With the same careful consideration, he began cutting the tuna, admiring the bright red color of the flesh. He hadn’t cut sashimi much, but he knew he had to cut evenly, not pressing the fish down too hard, and to try to get the fish into as even pieces as he could.

Elliott was startled as a knock came at the door. He glanced to Leah, who grinned and got up to answer.

Sebastian was clearly startled to see Leah. “Oh, uh, hi,” he managed. “I’m, uh…”

Leah reached up and put a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Sebastian, Elliott is my best friend in the entire world,” she said. Sebastian relaxed just in time for her to say, “So if you break his heart, I break your neck.”

Elliott groaned from the kitchen. “Leah, darling, I don’t need you to be my bodyguard,” he said, raising his voice so it could be heard from where he stood at the counter.

Leah pointed two fingers at her eyes, then pointed them at Sebastian, who looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or be terrified.

“Leah!” Elliott called. “You have places to go, farmhands to see!”

Leah moved back into the cabin and picked her backpack up before detouring to the kitchen. She leaned up and kissed Elliott’s cheek. He returned the gesture of affection and smiled down at her. “Have a wonderful time, starling,” he said.

“I will. You two have a blast,” she said. Sebastian cautiously moved into the cabin as Leah moved past. She paused at the door and turned around. “But I’m not kidding – those sheets better be freshly laundered when I get back tomorrow,” she said, shutting the door behind her.

When the door closed, Elliott paused in his slicing and looked up. Sebastian was standing in the main room of the cabin, looking at him as though he was afraid to approach. Elliott put down the knife and quickly washed and dried his hands before he approached. “Darling, what’s wrong?” he asked, reaching to place a hand on Sebastian’s face and wrap the other arm around his back.

Sebastian leaned into the embrace and hugged Elliott as tightly as he dared, squinting his eyes closed. “Nothing,” he said, letting out a long, shuddering breath. “I’m just… I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Elliott’s eyes softened and he leaned down, kissing Sebastian’s forehead. “I’m doing much better,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, again, for Sunday. I was a wreck.”

“It’s okay,” Sebastian said. He looked up at Elliott and placed his hand on the back of Elliott’s neck, gently rubbing it. “It’s… it’s okay. We’re here now. We’re okay.”

“Yes, we are,” Elliott agreed, leaning in and pressing his lips against Sebastian’s. Sebastian moaned and wrapped himself around Elliott as much as he could. For a few moments, they stayed as close together as they were able. Then Elliott pulled back, smiling. “I have dinner almost ready,” he said. “It’s a cold dinner, but I figured that would be more appealing than something warm.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Sebastian said. “Do you need any help?”

“If you could set the table, that would be lovely,” Elliott said, stepping back into the kitchen and returning to the tuna. “The plates are in the cupboard to the left of the sink. Glasses are in the upper cupboard next to the refrigerator.”

Sebastian carefully moved into the kitchen and opened the cupboards he was directed to. He had to admit, Leah’s cottage was in much, much better shape than Elliott’s cabin had been. The cupboards were solid, the windows sealed. Even in the heat of late July, with no central air, it felt cooler in her cottage than it had in Elliott’s cabin. No doubt the river had something to do with that, but also it meant the cottage was properly insulated.

Sebastian hardly knew how to say what he wanted to say. _I’m glad you’re safe._ It wasn’t enough. _I’m glad you’re not living somewhere awful anymore._ That would make Elliott feel terrible. _I’m glad you have somewhere you can be._ And that would emphasize how Elliott was still homeless. He furrowed his brow as he lay the plates and glasses on the table. He was envious of Elliott’s ability to speak so clearly, to get the exact words out in the exact order to make someone feel better. If he could stop being so tongue-tied all the time, he might be able to tell Elliott how he felt.

Elliott finished tossing the radishes in a little oil and vinegar that Leah kept in her refrigerator, then brought the salad and the plate of sashimi to the table. Sebastian’s eyes lit up at the sliced tuna.

“Oh, you’re the best,” he said, moving over to hug Elliott before he even got the plates down. Elliott laughed.

“No promises on how it tastes,” he said. “And I have some sparkling water for us. One moment.” He placed the bowl of radish salad and plate of sashimi down and moved back to the refrigerator. Sebastian took the opportunity to snag a piece of sashimi with his fingers and quickly pop it in his mouth. He chewed and felt the freshness and brightness of the ocean permeate his senses. He closed his eyes, unwittingly letting out a small noise of pleasure.

“Here we are,” Elliott said, bringing the bottles over and taking a seat. “Apple for you, pomegranate for me.” He unscrewed the tops of the bottles, unleashing the carbonation and picked them up, pouring into the glasses. “I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m very eager for autumn. I think that influenced the flavor of sparkling water I got.”

“I mean, I always like apple,” Sebastian said. He sat down in the seat, looking at Elliott. “Is pomegranate your favorite fruit?”

“Oh, yes,” Elliott said, eyes lighting up just enough to let Sebastian know he was being entirely sincere. “Back home, we would get them just as the weather started to turn truly cold. They were so beautiful, those rich, ruby-red seeds inside of an almost alien fruit. And then when I would get to taste it, the juice of the seeds would burst inside of my mouth and fill me with thoughts of warmer lands, of magical places where such things grew. I’ve loved pomegranates ever since I was a little boy.”

Sebastian watched Elliott’s face as he spoke. He could almost envision a young Elliott, with hair just as brilliant but much shorter, sitting at a counter and eating the seeds from a pomegranate with a spoon while cool wind and rain pattered at the window outside. The thought made his throat seize and he almost felt like he might start crying. _The hell is wrong with me?_ He took the glass Elliott was offering him and smiled. “Thanks,” he said, the word coming out as an awkward croak. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Thanks,” he said, getting back to his normal voice.

“My pleasure,” Elliott said. “Please, help yourself.”

The sashimi was delicious, just as the first bit he’d snuck had been, and Sebastian found himself enjoying the radish salad as well. Elliott was right – it was much better to have a cool meal with the heat they were trying to avoid from the outside. They didn’t converse much, not as much as they usually did when they shared a meal, but it wasn’t awkward. There was a comfort in the silence they shared while they ate or drank.

At one point, Sebastian reached across the table and put his hand on Elliott’s, squeezing it. Elliott looked up and smiled at him, turning his hand so they could intertwine their fingers. The thought of how good this felt, of being somewhere with Elliott and holding his hand and eating dinner quietly, was overwhelming to Sebastian. If they could do this every evening, he could only imagine how happy that would make him. The thought of years ahead, stretching as far as he could imagine, filled with nights where he and Elliott sat together quietly, eating dinner and sharing each other’s company, then enjoying their evening, perhaps watching a movie or a TV show, or Elliott reading to him, or bringing him a snack if he had to work late on a project, or of them sleeping together and sharing their bodies and becoming one, and then falling asleep in the same bed, in each other’s arms, made him feel so lightheaded he wasn’t even sure he was still sitting at the table with Elliott, in Leah’s cabin, enjoying the sashimi that Elliott had so carefully prepared for him. For _him._

From the movies and the songs and the stories he’d seen and heard and read over the years, Sebastian had always thought falling in love would be a result of big gestures, of romance that never ended, of flowers and dinners out and trips around the world. But the things that meant the most to Sebastian weren’t big at all, they were small moments like this. Moments he and Elliott could be together and just _be._ They didn’t have to say anything, they didn’t have to make loud protestations or declarations. It was Elliott’s very presence that he craved. That was what he’d needed all this time.

He was falling in love with Elliott. Somehow the thought hadn’t occurred to him before now, at least not actively. Looking back, he realized that it had always been there, or at least had been there for so long that he couldn’t remember a time before he knew it, even though he knew objectively he couldn’t possibly have felt this way more than a few months earlier. Sebastian’s heart pounded. Somehow his hand continued moving methodically, carefully, alternating between spearing a forkful of salad and a bite of sashimi.

“Are you all right?” The words snapped him back to reality and he looked up into Elliott’s face.

“Huh?” he asked. _Articulate as ever._

“You looked very far away. Is something on your mind?” Elliott asked him, gently running a thumb over his knuckles.

 _If you only knew._ Sebastian swallowed and managed a smile. “Nah, just… drifting,” he said. His cowardice twisted his insides again. He knew exactly why he couldn’t just say what he wanted to Elliott, why he couldn’t say what he desperately wanted to. He was terrified of seeing a flash of panic in Elliott’s eyes, of him trying to gently, delicately accept the compliment without returning it.

Elliott was amazing. He was handsome and smart and witty and successful and kind. _What is he doing with me?_

When they finished dinner, Sebastian quickly stood, picking up the plates. “Let me,” he said.

“I could help –” Elliott began.

“No,” Sebastian said. He realized how blunt that was and cleared his throat. “No, you made dinner. This is my job,” he said, trying a smile.

Elliott returned the smile. “Well, I’ll at least get our dessert ready, then,” he said, standing. Sebastian brought the plates and glasses the short distance from the table into the kitchen while Elliott started fussing about in the freezer section of the refrigerator. When he turned on the sink, he realized the water pressure was much better here than in Elliott’s cabin. _One more thing that’s better for him._ If Leah ever moved out…

No. He shouldn’t think about something like that. Leah was Elliott’s best friend. He thrived being around her. He wanted Elliott to be happy. _But I also want us to have a place._ Somewhere they could be together.

The dishes didn’t take long. By the time Sebastian had finished washing and drying, Elliott had spooned ice cream into a pair of smaller bowls and reached around him, handing him the bowl and kissing the side of his neck at the same time. “For you,” he murmured.

Sebastian felt a shiver run through him at the contact. He accepted the dish and turned his head to press his lips against Elliott’s. “Thanks,” he whispered.

Elliott led him back to the table, where they sat, eating their ice cream in peace. Sebastian knew Pierre didn’t have a frozen food section, and the thick paper container was one he’d seen before. This time of year, there was one spot to get ice cream in Pelican Town, and Sebastian didn’t want to think about Elliott interacting with Alex at all. He hadn’t spoken to Alex since high school, now six years in the past. He rarely spoke to Alex even then. But Alex certainly spoke to him, telling him everything Sebastian hadn’t wanted to hear.

Alex wasn’t the only bully Sebastian had had in high school. He wasn’t even the worst. The Grampleton kids, the ones who were locals, who could walk or get dropped off at school by their parents, were awful to everyone who got bussed in from Pelican Town – everyone except Alex and Haley, of course – adding in jibes about how poor he was, what a hick he was, on top of the usual favorites about him being small, about him actually being a girl, about how he had to be gay. But Alex’s comments hurt about as much as anyone’s ever did, because Alex had grown up with him. They weren’t ever really friends, not in the way he was with Sam or Abby or Penny, when she had hung out with them. He and Alex didn’t ever have much to talk about. But Alex had never been _mean_ to him. Not until high school. Not until Sebastian found out how people could change.

It was a shame it was such good ice cream. Elliott had gotten a pair of flavors, chocolate and pistachio, and they went really well together. Sebastian found himself enjoying the dessert in spite of himself, and he could see from the pleasure on Elliott’s face how much he enjoyed it. Sebastian didn’t want to think about what Alex had said about Elliott after he left the stand. Haley was always hanging out with him. They always had something to say about other people.

And he didn’t want to say anything. He didn’t want Elliott feeling guilty or bad, after he’d put so much care into making this such a nice night. So he ate, quietly, making sure he kept as neutral an expression as he could manage on his face.

Elliott took the last spoonful of ice cream and sighed contentedly. “There’s some more, if you’d like,” he said, looking over to Sebastian.

Sebastian scraped at the bottom of his bowl. “Shouldn’t we leave some for Leah?” he asked.

“No, Leah doesn’t care much for ice cream,” Elliott said.

Sebastian looked up at him, arching an eyebrow. “How long has she been a communist?” he asked.

Elliott laughed. “She claims it hurts her teeth with how sweet and cold it is,” he said, chuckling. “But I think I prefer your explanation.”

Sebastian picked up the bowls and brought them back into the kitchen, rinsing them out and drying them carefully. He placed the ice cream back into the freezer and moved back to the table, sitting and taking Elliott’s hand. It was starting to get close to sunset. He could tell from the light outside shifting to a more golden hue. It wouldn’t be long before the sun disappeared over the edge of the mountains that formed the outer ridge of Stardew Valley.

“Thank you for dinner,” he said, squeezing Elliott’s hand. “It was great.”

“You’re very welcome,” Elliott said, smiling at him. “What would you like to do next?”

Sebastian didn’t say anything in response. Instead, he slid from his seat over until he was atop Elliott’s lap, one leg to each side. He wrapped an arm around Elliott’s back and began stroking Elliott’s hair with his free hand. He pressed his lips against Elliott’s, letting out a small moan. Elliott wrapped his own arms around Sebastian and let out a small murmur of contentment as their lips met.

Already, Sebastian was more comfortable than he had been the last time they were intimate. It felt like they both were in a much better mental space than they had been. Last time, Elliott had been desperate and Sebastian had been anxious and fearful. Now, it felt so much more natural. Sebastian’s heart pounded in his chest as Elliott moved from kissing his lips down to kissing his neck, pressing quick, firm kisses all over his neck, his clavicle, under his chin. Sebastian found himself tilting his head back, whimpering and clutching at Elliott more. A sharp shiver cut through him as Elliott pressed his lips against that one spot – _yes there please more_ – that seemed to have a direct electrical current straight to his groin. He rolled his hips, feeling the pressure against him adjust and whimpered again.

“I love doing this,” Elliott whispered, just before he kissed under Sebastian’s ear. “Seeing you slowly start to warm, to know you’re feeling just what I want you to feel.” He affixed his lips on Sebastian’s earlobe, suckling on it gently and letting out a murmur of appreciation at the sharp gasp Sebastian took in and the way he twisted his hand in Elliott’s long hair.

“Elliott,” Sebastian moaned. The tone of his voice wasn’t the usual sort of call or cry during the lead up to or during sex. There was a hint of a question – or a request – in it. Elliott pulled his head away, brushing some hair back from his forehead to look at Sebastian.

“Yes, darling?” he asked.

“I…” the words stuck in Sebastian’s throat. He licked his lips. “I want…”

Elliott placed a hand on Sebastian’s face, gently stroking it. The gesture was familiar, so familiar that Elliott didn’t need to say the words he had in the past. _Take your time._

Sebastian found his words. He leaned forward, kissing Elliott tenderly before resting his forehead against Elliott’s. “I want to try tonight,” he said, voice quiet, but tone insistent. “I’m – I’m ready. I want to try.”

Elliott’s smile widened and he leaned in to kiss Sebastian, deeper than before. When he broke their kiss, he murmured into Sebastian’s mouth, “I’m happy. I’m so happy you feel comfortable enough with me. I promise I’ll do everything I can, everything in my power to make it feel good. I’ve longed for this, darling. I’ve longed for the sensation of joining with you, of making you feel the way you make me feel.”

The words, sweet and soft, enveloped Sebastian and he let himself sink into them. He clutched at Elliott. “Please,” he whispered.

“Now?” Elliott whispered back. Sebastian managed a nod and Elliott carefully put his arms around Sebastian’s back. “Up we go,” he murmured, standing and bringing Sebastian with him. Sebastian eagerly locked his legs around Elliott’s waist and held onto Elliott’s shoulders, tucking his head into Elliott’s neck. Elliott moved slowly, carefully through the room and over toward the bed. Sebastian had never been carried like this. When he was young and sleepy, either mom or Demetrius would carry him into bed and tuck him in. He remembered the feeling of strong arms around him, making sure he was secure. 

The same feeling of security came back now, as Elliott braced Sebastian’s back with his arms. But there was so much more to it. Elliott wasn’t just keeping him safe, he was going to show Sebastian something completely new, something he’d never experienced. _It’s going to hurt._ That was what Elliott had told him, that the first time always hurt. But he trusted Elliott. He knew Elliott would be as careful as he could, that he wouldn’t rush, that he would be more worried about Sebastian’s pleasure than his own.

Elliott lay Sebastian down on the bed and began to carefully roll up his shirt. Sebastian let it happen. He allowed Elliott to undress him, carefully, slowly. It was something Elliott seemed to savor, not just getting to see Sebastian entirely without a stitch of clothing, but also relishing the slow exposure, of skin revealed – a hip, a shoulder, a knee, each part slowly revealing more and more of Sebastian before him.

And when Sebastian lay there, entirely nude, before Elliott, he saw the same look that always came into Elliott’s eyes. A look of desire, of lust, but also of comfort, of happiness, of want, of need.

“You are so beautiful, it breaks my heart,” Elliott said, his voice low as he carefully ran his fingers down Sebastian’s chest. Sebastian moaned and reached at Elliott’s shirt.

“Please,” he whimpered. “Please, I need to feel you.”

Elliott wasn’t as careful about taking off his clothes as he had once been. Whatever else had happened the night they met in the community center, it seemed to have rid Elliott of his shyness in revealing his damaged skin to Sebastian. He unbuttoned his long white shirt and pulled it off, followed by his undershirt. He leaned in and kissed Sebastian deeply, the feeling of soft hair and warm skin and the slight scratch from the patches of eczema all overwhelming Sebastian with sensation and sensuality. 

Sebastian reached down, struggling to get Elliott’s pants undone without being able to see what he was doing. He finally managed to get the button undone and pulled down the zipper, reaching inside the band of Elliott’s boxers and beginning to stroke. Elliott hissed in a slight breath.

“Please,” he whispered. “Darling, that feels so good. Don’t stop, please.”

Sebastian couldn’t have stopped if he’d wanted to. He was addicted to the feeling of Elliott, to his touch, his taste, his smell, his sound. The slight moans Elliott made as Sebastian stroked him were more beautiful music than anything he’d ever heard. The way Elliott lowered his head, as though his neck suddenly wasn’t strong enough to hold his head up under Sebastian’s ministrations filled him with lust and joy.

Elliott moved up and pushed his pants down, gently extracting himself from Sebastian’s hand long enough to finish getting his clothes off. And then he was upon Sebastian, kissing him deeply, rubbing their bodies together, encircling Sebastian in an embrace that made Sebastian feel as though nothing bad could ever happen to him again.

Elliott’s lips felt as though they were everywhere on Sebastian, kissing his lips, his face, his neck, his chest. Elliott did this when he wanted Sebastian to be overwhelmed – in a good way, not in the way that made his anxiety spike – and to force a rush of hormones through him.

“Please. Please. Please,” Sebastian begged, barely cognizant of the words as they came out of his mouth. He wanted Elliott. He _needed_ Elliott. He’d thought more and more lately of what it would be like to have Elliott above him, moving inside of him, shooting his release inside of Sebastian. The last thought was the one that made him feel as though his body might dissolve under its own ecstasy. He had been inside of Elliott, had left part of himself inside of Elliott. And now Elliott was going to do the same thing. For the rest of his life, there would always be a part of Elliott inside of him.

Elliott reached over to his trousers and fished out the bottle of lubricant from inside. He sat up on the bed and reached for one of the pillows, carefully lifting Sebastian’s hips to rest them on it. “This will make it more comfortable for you,” he said. He smiled wryly. “You’d be surprised how much the lower back can twinge after you’ve bent it.”

“Sounds like an old person problem,” Sebastian sassed.

Elliott looked at him, lips flat but a hint of amusement in his eyes. “I’ll have you know I was eighteen years old the first time I took it up the ass,” he said. “You’re the late bloomer here.”

“Oh, well excuse me,” Sebastian said, matching Elliott’s faux seriousness note-for-note. “Not all of us can grow up somewhere taking it up the ass is considered an important part of public education like Pangolais.”

Elliott grumbled. “I think I liked it better when you didn’t know what to say to me,” he said.

Sebastian laughed, though that laugh was quickly cut off by a soft moan as Elliott moved a lubricated finger to his opening and began carefully running it around the outside. Sebastian shivered as the unexpected sensation sparked something in him he hadn’t ever felt before. His jaw was slightly slack as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

“How do you feel?” Elliott asked, his voice much softer now.

“Good,” Sebastian got out. “It’s… different. But good.”

“Are you ready for me to push my finger in?” Elliott asked him.

Sebastian nodded. He took in a slight breath as the pressure slid inside, slowly, carefully, deliberately. Elliott’s long finger came to rest inside of him, giving him a moment to become accustomed to the feeling. It _was_ different, as he had said. But it wasn’t bad. It was – hard to describe, even to himself. It was a feeling of completion, a feeling of something inside of him that he hadn’t known he wanted or craved. As Elliott began to slowly move his finger back and forth, the ridges of his knuckle passing along the inside of Sebastian, a deep groan came from the back of Sebastian’s throat.

“Still all right?” Elliott asked.

“Yeah,” Sebastian breathed. “Yeah, it’s…” he swallowed. “It’s good.”

“Going to try another finger now,” Elliott said. “If it’s too much, just say.”

Sebastian nodded. Elliott almost completely withdrew his finger and then Sebastian felt a firmer push and he began to feel himself stretch slightly. This was a bit more pressure than he’d been accustomed to, than he’d anticipated. He felt his brow furrowing. As soon as he did, he felt Elliott stop.

“Is it too much?” he asked.

“No,” Sebastian said, though he could tell from the tone of his voice that even he wasn’t sure. “It’s – I can handle it. I just might need you to go a little slower.”

“I’ll wait,” Elliott said. True to his word, he remained perfectly still, fingers inside of Sebastian. “Just breathe, darling. Breathe and let me know when you feel accustomed to it.”

Sebastian nodded and kept his eyes closed, letting his breathing regulate. He suddenly realized just how hard he was. Fluid was leaking from his head and he could feel its stickiness against his stomach. His body was reacting in ways he wasn’t used to. Though the fingers inside of him were more than he was expecting, it still didn’t feel bad, once he focused past the discomfort of the stretching. He could feel something inside of him fluttering.

 _He’s going to be in me. He’s going to be inside of me. He’s going to come in me._ The last thought made his length twitch and he whimpered.

“Are you all right?” Elliott’s voice was closer. Sebastian could tell Elliott was looming over him and he opened his eyes at last. Elliott wasn’t directly above him, but he was leaning forward, balancing on his free hand, and trying to keep his fingers as still inside of Sebastian as he could.

“Yeah,” Sebastian said. He reached over and placed a hand on Elliott’s forearm, squeezing it gently. “You can move them.”

Slowly, carefully, over a period of time that could have been seconds or years, Elliott worked Sebastian over. He stroked inside of him, adding lubricant every so often to make sure everything was slick and comfortable, working himself up to adding a third finger. When he did, Sebastian surprised himself with the whimper he let out. He was feeling it, acutely feeling every motion, every stroke Elliott made inside of him with his fingers.

 _He’s preparing me. He’s getting me ready._ The thought made him moan and his head tossed from side to side as lust flared inside of him. Watching Elliott prepare himself had made Sebastian feel as though he might fall to pieces from how beautiful and erotic it was. And now Elliott was being just as careful, just as gentle, just as delicate with him. He was preparing Sebastian. He was going to be inside of him.

“How are you feeling?” Elliott asked again. In another situation, Sebastian might have gotten annoyed at how much Elliott had repeated the question, but he knew Elliott was deeply worried and wanted this to go well.

“I’m ready,” Sebastian said. He wasn’t sure if he was, but he had to feel Elliott inside of him.

“Are you sure, darling?” Elliott asked. “You’ve taken the fingers well, but there’s a difference between that and me being inside you. It’s thicker, it will… I won’t lie, this will hurt. No matter how much you’ve prepared, the first time is always painful.”

“Please,” Sebastian begged. He squeezed Elliott’s arm again. “Please, Elliott. We can go slow. I need you. Please.”

Elliott let out a shuddering breath of desire. “All right, darling,” he said. He carefully withdrew his fingers from Sebastian and Sebastian let out a groan, suddenly feeling much more open than he had. If he hadn’t been so turned on, he might have been embarrassed. He watched as Elliott once again opened the lubricant and began to spread it over himself. Sebastian found himself staring. Elliott was bigger than him, he had always known that, but he had never looked quite that big.

_It’s going to be in me. He’s going to be in me._

Elliott carefully moved himself so that he placed his arms under Sebastian’s legs and lifted them up, sliding between them and positioning himself. He looked up and made eye contact with Sebastian. He placed his dry hand on Sebastian’s face and looked him in the eyes.

“Everyone needs to go slow their first time,” he said. “And I mean that. Absolutely everyone. I am going to go very, very slow, and if you need to stop at _any_ point, say so and I’ll stop. I’ll pull out if you need. Please don’t be afraid. I am not going to be angry or upset. I’ll be more upset if you try to bear it and cause yourself to feel more pain than you should.”

Sebastian nodded, his lips feeling dry. Elliott leaned in and kissed him and Sebastian moaned, closing his eyes. _This is happening._ Elliott pulled back. “I adore you,” he whispered. And then he pressed forward.

At first, it didn’t actually feel too bad. When Elliott was just barely inside, it felt good. But then he kept pushing in. Further and further. Deeper and deeper. Even though he was going slow, Sebastian felt as though he were being stretched beyond what he could possibly ever hope to take. No matter how much Elliott had stroked him, had tried to prepare him with his fingers, had warned him, nothing could have readied Sebastian for the sharp pain that spread out through his midsection. He let out a cry of pain and felt Elliott immediately withdraw.

“It’s all right.” Elliott was there, arms wrapped around him, holding him. “I’m here. Darling, it’s all right. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I wish there were some way we could stop the pain. I would give anything for you not to feel any pain right now.”

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian whimpered, his eyes feeling hot. “I’m sorry, I thought I could –”

“Shhh,” Elliott said, softly kissing his temple. “I told you, everyone feels this the first time. There’s…” he sighed. “There’s really nothing to be done for it. We can stop, if you wish.”

“No,” Sebastian said. _Fuck no._ He wasn’t going to give up now. “Just… just give me a minute.”

“As long as you need,” Elliott said, softly kissing his chin, his jaw, his neck.

Sebastian let himself lie back against the bed and feel Elliott above him. Already, the sting was starting to lessen. _It was the first time. It was a shock to my body. It’ll get better._ He kissed Elliott back, wrapping his arms around Elliott as he could. When the sting finally abated, he pulled his lips back and nodded.

“You’re ready?” Elliott asked.

“Yeah,” Sebastian said. As Elliott began to move closer to him, he said, “Elliott?”

“Yes? What is it, darling?” Elliott asked.

“Don’t stop until you’re all the way in,” Sebastian said. “Get it in and let me get used to it. Please. I’m not going to ask you to stop. I want you to get it in me.”

A flash of concern went through Elliott’s eyes. “I can do that,” he said, a little warily. “But if it’s too much, please, please say something.”

Sebastian nodded and braced himself.

Elliott moved back into position and applied a bit more lubricant before starting to push himself inside. The sting wasn’t quite as bad this time, though it was still there, and Sebastian forced himself not to give out anything more than a slight grunt of discomfort as Elliott slowly, carefully pushed in. He slid in slowly, pressing deeper and deeper into Sebastian, stretching him open until Sebastian could almost feel the sting of tears in his eyes. He had never experienced anything like this. But the knowledge that it was Elliott, that Elliott was inside of him, that he’d be able to make Sebastian feel good, kept him biting the inside of his cheek and digging his nails into his palm.

And then he felt Elliott’s hips come to rest against him and Elliott leaned in, kissing him about as softly as he had ever been kissed before.

“I’m all the way in, darling,” Elliott murmured to him. “You’re so beautiful. You’re so beautiful and so good and so strong. You take as long as you need. I’m here. We have all night. If you need the entire night, I’ll wait. You are worth it. You feel amazing around me. You’re so warm. I love being in you. It’s…” Elliott let out a slight groan. “It feels glorious. I want to make you feel good. Just rest. Rest and breathe.”

Sebastian let the words wash over him like high tide. Somehow, they seemed to seep into him, to become part of him. Elliott’s words rescued him from this moment, from the sting and the unshed tears behind his tightly closed eyes the way that morphine would rescue a cancer patient: not by eradicating the pain, but by making it cease to matter.

Slowly, damnably slowly, the pain started to ease. The sting slowly started to abate. It still felt very strange, the sensation of fullness inside of him. He only barely realized how hard his arms were gripping onto Elliott’s back, how much pressure he was putting on Elliott. Elliott wasn’t complaining. He never did, he always treated Sebastian so well. Sebastian focused on breathing as deeply in and then out as he could. He wasn’t sure if it was actually making the pain go away, but it seemed to be helping. It felt less and less with each exhale, as the carbon dioxide left his body.

Sebastian opened his eyes. Elliott was just above him, looking into his face with such adoration and warmth that Sebastian felt his heart seize. He swallowed, trying to bring some relief to his throat, and he said, “It’s okay.”

“You’re certain?” Elliott asked.

“Just… go slow to start,” Sebastian said.

“Of course.” Elliott leaned in and kissed him. “I adore you, you beautiful, wonderful creature,” he said. And then he started to move.

Slight hints of pain came back as Elliott moved within him, but they quickly faded and Sebastian soon became accustomed to the sensation of Elliott’s length being within him. The realization that Elliott was inside of him, that this was Elliott’s member reaching so deep into him, deeper than he thought Elliott could go, pressing into him in a way he’d never been pressed into, almost made Sebastian feel light-headed. He could hear the small whimpers escaping from him, the ones that he’d never heard himself make before.

Elliott whispered into his ear the entire time, whispers about how beautiful Sebastian was, how gorgeous and smart and sexy and desirable he was. How Elliott had craved this, how he had longed to feel every inch of Sebastian and know him in the same way that Sebastian had known Elliott. How wonderful it felt inside of Sebastian, how warm and comforting and snug and blissful he felt. The words made the pain not matter. They were worth it. Knowing how good he was making Elliott feel was worth anything. He would have borne the worst torture imaginable to make Elliott feel this way.

And then something happened. Inside of him, deep inside, where Elliott was stroking so deliberately and carefully, Sebastian felt a slight blossom of heat. It was small at first, so small that he could hardly even notice it, but then it began to grow. And as Elliott stroked, as his hips drew back slowly and just as slowly pressed back inside, Sebastian could feel how the heat bloomed. How the friction of Elliott inside of him was stoking it, making it stronger, more powerful.

“More,” he moaned.

“What?” Elliott asked. He stopped and moved closer to Sebastian. “Is it too much?”

“No,” Sebastian begged. He opened his eyes and Elliott could see how they were glassy with lust. “It’s… it’s so good. More. Harder. Please.”

Sebastian could see a sudden shift in Elliott’s eyes, as though a switch had been flicked. He drew back and thrust in, a little harder, a little faster than before. The whine Sebastian let out, the way his head fell back, told Elliott that it was all right.

And so Elliott started to make love to Sebastian in earnest. He held Sebastian close, felt Sebastian’s grip on his back, and began drawing back and plunging into Sebastian, still cautious not to go too much, too hard, too fast, but letting himself fall into his own lust. He could feel sweat on his brow and his neck. Sebastian was so warm inside, Elliott thought he might melt. The way Sebastian’s whimpering started to increase in pitch and desperation made his desire flare. He had to have Sebastian. He had to take him.

Each thrust drew another whimper or whine or plea or gasp from Sebastian. Before, when he had been inside of Elliott, he had been aware of how good his body could feel. Now, he felt as though he might separate from his body completely. He had never felt like this, as though his entire being were consumed in the most beautiful static, warm and electric and making him feel fuzzy all over.

Sebastian had never understood the concept of an out-of-body experience, but as Elliott continued to drive pleasure and desire and lust and want and need into him, he felt as though he were adrift somewhere, floating in a large, warm, comforting lake, like the one on the other side of the world that was so salty it was impossible to drown in it. He was both more aware of his body than he ever had been in his life and less aware of himself as being in it.

Elliott slowed without warning and brought his mouth in to Sebastian’s ear. “Darling,” he whispered. “Darling, if – if I continue like this, I won’t last. I can slow and make it last longer, or I can continue. What do you want?”

“Please,” Sebastian begged. He had to have Elliott in him. “Please – Elliott – I need – I need you. Come in me. Please. Please. Please. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

With a deeply uncharacteristic growl, Elliott dropped his mouth onto Sebastian’s, his tongue seeking Sebastian’s out as he began moving, even faster than before. Sebastian moaned into Elliott’s mouth and clutched at him and tried as best he could to press up against Elliott, to make him feel better in any way he could. He wanted to get Elliott there. He wanted to make Elliott come. He wanted to feel Elliott filling him up, to feel the warmth spreading inside of him.

 _In me. In me. Please. Elliott. Please. Please. Please._ He couldn’t speak anymore. Speech was beyond him. All he could do was make noises as though he were an animal, mating in such a primal way that any human logic or emotion or thought was divorced from him. Sebastian almost felt as though he would weep from how beautiful it was, how Elliott was making him feel.

Elliott felt the pressure inside of him building and building, roiling with the threat of his release. He both wanted to make this last longer and desperately wanted to reach his precipice. It was why he had asked Sebastian what Sebastian wanted. This was Sebastian’s first time. It was Elliott’s obligation to make it as beautiful for Sebastian as he could. But Elliott couldn’t stop the physical reaction from happening any more than he could have stopped the sun from rising this morning. He felt his muscles start to contract as he drove into and out of Sebastian’s gorgeous warmth – Yoba, he had never remembered it feeling this good before – and he knew he was close. He was so close. He was so very –

Elliott cried into Sebastian’s mouth as he plunged in and let himself go. His release erupted from every part of himself, building and churning and shooting out through himself, into Sebastian below. His member twitched and clenched with each successive pump as he fell through his climax.

Sebastian pulled Elliott as close to him as he could and moaned as Elliott reached his release. He felt the sudden warmth inside of himself and his heart soared. _He’s in me. He’s there. He came in me._ Sebastian almost felt like he would cry. He had wanted this, wanted it so badly. And now it had happened.

Elliott’s arms were weak and he pushed himself up so that he was on his knees, remaining inside of Sebastian. He could see from how much Sebastian was leaking onto his stomach that it wouldn’t be long. He wrapped his hand around Sebastian and began stroking. Sebastian’s whimpers increased again and his body started to shake as Elliott finally began to bring him close to his own release.

Sebastian found himself floating again. Elliott’s hand was strong and soft and warm and he was still firm – not hard, but firm – inside and he had filled Sebastian up and he was so warm and so happy and so turned on and so glad and Elliott was here and he had made love to Sebastian and –

Sebastian nearly sobbed as he came, shooting harder than he could ever remember before. He felt the spray against his stomach and chest, erupting from him with such force it would almost have hurt if it hadn’t felt so good.

Sebastian’s body twitched a few times as he finished his orgasm and then he collapsed back onto the sheets, sweaty and gasping and feeling ravaged and spent and so, so unbelievably good.

Elliott moved carefully next to him, lying beside him. He kissed Sebastian, soft and kind and gentle. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Sebastian managed a slight laugh. “Thank _you,_ ” he said, snuggling closer to Elliott. “That… I…”

“It’s something, isn’t it?” Elliott asked, chuckling gently. He brushed Sebastian’s hair back from his forehead. “It was an honor to be your first time,” he said.

Sebastian reached up, stroking Elliott’s face with the backs of his fingers. He felt himself wanting to say something, but didn’t know quite how to get it out. Eventually, he reached down and took Elliott’s hand and then gently placed Elliott’s hand over his own naval.

Elliott seemed to understand Sebastian’s meaning and smiled. He kissed him again. “I know,” he said softly.

“You’re inside me now,” Sebastian said quietly.

“I am,” Elliott said. “Just like how you’re inside of me.”

 _Forever._ The thought warmed Sebastian and almost made him feel lightheaded. Elliott would always be inside of him. And they would do this again. And again. And the more Elliott made love to him and he made love to Elliott, the braver he would get. Elliott’s bravery and comfort were already rubbing off on him, he could tell. Someday, maybe soon, he would be brave enough to let people know, his friends, his family, the town. He wouldn’t be afraid anymore. Elliott would make him brave.

And then, out of nowhere, both Elliott and Sebastian opened their eyes as they heard the distinct noise of brush crunching outside the cabin. They glanced at each other.

“Leah?” Sebastian asked quietly.

“It can’t be,” Elliott said, just as quietly. “She’s not back until tomorrow.”

Regardless, they got out of bed, quickly dressing themselves. Elliott bunched the sheets and moved over to the washing machine, tossing them and detergent in, and closing the lid, letting the machine start.

Sebastian hopped on one leg, trying to get his pants on, and pulled his shirt over his head. He moved over to the window, looking outside for any sign of Elliott’s friend.

What he saw confused him so much that he went stock-still.

“Elliott?” From the tone, Elliott could tell Sebastian wasn’t sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. He finished screwing the top on the laundry detergent and placed it back in the cupboard above the machine before he moved to the store to follow Sebastian’s gaze.

Outside, moving slowly, deliberately, placing one foot in front of the other, was a woman in a blue striped blouse and a long purple skirt. Her hair, pulled back into the usual pigtails, looked a softer shade of green in the moonlight than it normally did in the sun. She seemed to move with purpose but was walking so slowly that it seemed almost as though she were gliding over the ground.

“It’s Caroline,” Elliott said, in the same tone of confusion that Sebastian had.

“The hell is she doing out here at night?” Sebastian asked. He looked over at the clock. Just past nine. It wasn’t so late, but he never knew Caroline Cooper to take walks out this far. The only time he’d seen her in the woods were for one of the festivals held out here.

“Do you suppose something’s wrong?” Elliott asked. “She’s going awfully slowly.”

“Maybe,” Sebastian said. “We could –” He caught himself. What was he thinking? If he went out there, Caroline would wonder what he was doing over here, especially if Elliott was nearby. And then everyone would know that he was spending the night at Leah’s cottage with Elliott. He cleared his throat. “Do you want to go ask her if everything’s all right?” he asked.

“I can,” Elliott said. He looked to Sebastian carefully. “I suppose you’d rather stay here?”

“Unless something’s really bad. Yeah,” Sebastian said, hating his cowardice.

“Very well. I’ll be right back,” Elliott said. He moved to the door and opened it. “Caroline?” he called. Sebastian watched from the window. Caroline didn’t seem to respond to Elliott’s greeting. Sebastian kept himself mostly obscured behind the curtains as Elliott moved into the yard and then walked toward Caroline. He saw Elliott put his hand gently on Caroline’s shoulder, and he appeared to be talking to her.

Sebastian could tell when Elliott turned and looked back at him that something was very, very wrong. Elliott beckoned him and Sebastian swallowed. _Here goes nothing._ He stepped out of the front door and started walking down the path leading toward Elliott and Caroline.

“What is it?” he asked quietly.

“Look,” Elliott said.

Sebastian turned and almost fell over when he saw Caroline. Her face was completely impassive. Her eyes were glassy and blank. Elliott carefully let go of her shoulder and she began once again moving forward. This close, Sebastian could tell that Caroline was in fact walking. He could see the movement of her legs under her long skirt, and could hear the rustling of the fabric as she moved slowly, deliberately.

“What the fuck?” Sebastian asked, looking to Elliott.

“I think she’s in a fugue state,” Elliott said quietly. He took a couple of steps closer to Caroline. “She’s not reacting to anything. She just keeps…”

Sebastian looked up. Caroline would be heading straight for the woods if she kept this up. He didn’t like her, but he didn’t want her to get eaten by a bear.

“Stay with her,” he said. “I’ll go get Abby. Or Harvey. We’ll figure something out.”

“Hurry,” Elliott said, moving closer to stay by Caroline. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to her.”

Sebastian turned and started to walk quickly back toward the village. His stomach clenched further with each step. They had to help Caroline. That much was obvious.

But he knew that after they did, there were going to be some questions. _Sebastian, what were you doing out here so late at night? Why were you and Elliott here together? What’s going on?_

_What’s going on?_

_What’s going on?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure: I’ve had a really, really, really horrible week. Huge projects at work plus drama in a very close friend group plus a large number of minor stresses have made me completely burnt out on life. Writing this chapter was the one thing that brought me some joy this week (one of the reasons why it turned out so long, at 37 (!!!) pages), and I hope it brings you some joy now.
> 
> The misery of summer has not completely passed in Pelican Town, and the next chapter will see some conflict as others arrive in the forest to try and determine what’s wrong with Caroline. We’re only four chapters away from the heat of summer breaking and entering the cooler, calmer, but chillier autumn arc as things settle and everyone begins the process of hunkering down for the long winter ahead.
> 
> Thank you all for your lovely comments and compliments and thoughts and questions; they’ve been the one bright spot in a lousy week. This week, “Fire Walk with Me” became both my most commented-upon and most read story on AO3. I am continuously blown away by your generosity in comments and feedback and thank all of you from the bottom of my heart. I’m so glad you’re enjoying the story as much as you are, and I’ll see you next week, guys!


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